As I continue to read through my calendar pages I think about why I’m having a hard time throwing them away.
Last night i realized it’s not the pages I’m holding onto.
It’s the words on the page.
The positive words on the page.
All of the words I longed to hear as a kid.
I didn’t hear words of encouragement such as I was capable of achieving my goals or I was good enough.
Instead I heard all of the reasons why I couldn’t achieve my dreams. We weren’t rich or I wasn’t pretty enough. I wasn’t good enough or skinny enough.
As I kid I longed to hear the words on the pages.
That I was good enough and that I could achieve my goals if I put my mind to it.
That I was special and unique that I had something special to share with the world.
At 57 I’m learning to tell myself the words I need to hear.
The words are healing me.
I’m not ready to give the pages up, but at least I know why I’m hanging onto them.
I’m good with that.