I used to know what I wanted out of my life, and I still kind of do. I definitely want to be the best mother and wife that I can possibly be.
But I don’t want to be one of those women who is only defined by my children and husband. Where the only things I have to contribute to a normal conversation are how well my kiddies and hubby are.
I used to write poetry a lot, but my poems were only as good as the hurt that I was feeling at the time. Now that I’m happy I have no inspiration. (I wonder if Adele is having the same problem with her music now that she’s happy?)
I used to do a lot of things and I’m wondering why I feel uninspired to do any of those things anymore. The only things I’ve been consistent with over the last four months have been this blog and getting into shape.
I’m not sure what the problem is, I’m not depressed I know the signs of depression because I suffer from depression from time to time. I think I’m just not that interested in me. Does that even make sense? I mean how can a person be uninterested in themselves?
I’ve definitely been striving to be a better person, a “mature positive heifer” and not a “petty mean girl”.
I shaved the perimeter of my head and left my locs on top, I like how it looks. I’m happy with how my body is shaping up. I’m content with work. My husband and kids are my world, I can’t imagine what I’d do without them.
Is it possible to become bored with oneself?