It's December again.
This year, time snuck up on me. It moved at lightning speed in a hurried blur of change, action, and new territories. The days seemed long, yet the moments passed quickly (having kids will do that to you!).
• I shifted deeper into my recovery into a place where I shared details of my journey with others. I "outed myself." Uncomfortable, but important.
• My sleepless nights melted oh-so -graciously into more restful ones, my blurry days of burping, feeding, and holding twin babies somehow transformed into chasing after two wobbly toddlers and wiping bits of yogurt and avocado out of my hair.
• My ability to find my limit -- and then challenge myself a tad further -- expanded.
• I made new friends and settled comfortably into my tribe.
• I became an advocate and a voice (for myself and for others). I began to write, and then I couldn't stop writing. I wrote about eating disorder recovery, body image, mental health, violence and terrorism, the strength and courage of motherhood, the challenges of motherhood, and the humorous side of motherhood. Whatever I was thinking, whatever I was feeling, I wrote it.
Time changed, and so did I.
December is infamous for thoughts of reflection and resolution. In a world where everything moves so quickly, it's an opportunity to pause. It's a chance to be still and be present. It's a time to consider your successes and achievements, your setbacks and failures. It's a chance to practice gratitude and mindful thinking.
December instills a sense of hope for the coming year. A clean slate, a fresh start, a new beginning. The thrill and excitement of the unknown -- of possibility -- fills the air and my thoughts are infused with the undetermined road that lies ahead.
Today, as I reflect, I sit with just my thoughts -- and a bit of inspirational instruction -- from one of my very wise aunts, "Find something that you are passionate about, and become an advocate."
With this piece of advice floating through my thoughts, I face the New Year with a sense of purpose, determination, and strength. Next year, I will continue to be a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves, encouragement for those who are struggling with body image, recovery challenges, parenting complexities, and mental health issues, and a source of strength for anyone that might need it.
I will use my voice.
I will be your advocate, and I will be mine.