That'll do Manadee...That'll do.

     For as long as I can remember I have pushed myself to the breaking point and beyond. Lately, I've been asking myself why. I've got fibromyalgia, one kidney, hypoglycemia, and have had a total hysterectomy within the last year (and this doesn't even account for all the other surgeries and medical drama). Despite all this, I've never really let myself rest, lie down, and just be. And again, the nagging question is why? 
     I have recently realized that the answer is fear. If I rest, doesn't that make me weak? And if I'm weak doesn't that essentially make me a garbage person? Wow. That's some pretty intense negativity and a whole lot of limiting beliefs shaken up in a soda bottle that is bound to explode if I don't release the pressure soon. So, here I am processing all that. Today I went to the gym for the first time in over a month for a personal training session, and you know what I did? Hung out in the therapy pool. The water was warm and oh so comforting and I just moved - joyfully I might add. I was a beautiful Manadee serene in her element which leads me to the second thing I did at the gym today - canceled my membership.
     Turns out I can get a punch pass that lasts for 6 months and can come and go as I please without having to shell out $73 a month for a membership I rarely use. It was surprisingly very emotional for me and I had to process those feelings too. Why am I feeling this so intensely? Because for the last six years or so, my worth as a human being has been intrinsically tied to the gym. I was always trying so hard to work up to going this many days a week, or this many sessions a week because eventually, I would go five days a week and prove to the universe that I was strong, and worthy. Turns out, a gym pass can't give me that validation.
     I am learning to accept the fact that I'll never be a marathon runner or a professional weight lifter or that girl at the gym who does all the pull ups and that's really ok. Because guess what? I'm not really into running, or lifting weights, or pull ups for that matter. It doesn't bring me joy. So, from now on, I'm just going to text my trainer when I feel up to taking a swim, or rock out to my tunes, or maybe even do some yoga. I'm going to stop telling my body how it should live up to some crazy expectation and just let it tell me what it needs and do what makes me happy. Yeah, happy sounds good for a change.