You know what? I like me. This dawned on me this morning. I know that it may sound trite and perhaps a bit conceited, but I like me. I think that, at 32, I'm allowed to admit that, too.
It's taken me a loooooong time to figure out that there aren't a lot of people out there that are a lot like me, but that's ok. There are a lot of people out there that are kind of like me, and that's good. It means I'm not a total freakazoid nerd-face loser chick. And that's good too.
Or maybe I am a total freakazoid nerd-face loser chick. I don't know that I particularly care. I'm ok. I'm not perfect, by any stretch of anyone's imagination. I'm sure that it wouldn't take long to compile a mile-long self depricating list of things that I could do better. But we certainly don't need to do that now, do we?
I guess that I've just learned to like my good traits and not focus on my imperfections. I've decided that I'm not half bad. Again, not perfect. Yikes. Not perfect. But, not too shabby, either. Hopefully my kid grows up to feel that way too, and I think that you should take a moment to reflect on the things that you do well.