So, while there are a million more unknowns that will come my way, I will continue to dance. In grief, in joy, in prayer, while I’m folding laundry or putting away dishes. Whether or not the world makes sense to me.

I fell in love with a man who has always been comfortable being himself. I think that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him so quickly. I, on the other hand, haven’t always been able to say the same about myself. I think back to the “old” me who would change her clothes and sometimes even her personality for someone else.

It was a Friday, and we were told to use the afternoon to prepare our lessons digitally for the next two weeks and to get what we needed out of our classrooms. At that point, there was no timeline for our return. All that any of us knew was that we didn’t know.

I was alone, single for nearly a decade, and a middle aged empty nester. The children were off at university. I went home to an empty apartment each night, and I was miserable.

Self-care is a popular topic these days. Self-care this. Self-care that. Extravagant vacations are self-care. Luxurious baths are self-care. Buying moderately expensive gourmet ice cream to eat in a blanket cocoon on your couch is self-care.

“I have to do what?” Standing in the doorway, wind and altitude doing nothing to help my nerves. They say I’m prepared, that I’ll be okay, that I know how to pull the ‘chute string. I wanted this. But I’m scared. Since when is stepping in harder than stepping out?

At the start of the year I penned my word of focus as “enough.” Each month my planner has a line for a mantra and I’ve simply written, “I am enough.” It’s more of a prayer than a reminder.

I didn’t write down the good memories like I thought I had. I didn’t write down my first kiss or the fun things I did that day. I wrote about my parents fighting. I wrote about how often I was bullied in school. I wrote about how bad I felt about my body.

I am only ankle deep in the water, but I close my eyes all the same, breathing in the familiar sensations of the beach, our home. I’m not weightless in the water, but I feel lighter, as if I removed the weight of overwhelm and left it on the shore for someone else to carry for a while.

Tethering to an idea or a thought comes both naturally and oh, so difficultly for me. My personality dislikes risk, variables, gray areas, patience. I need facts, logic, plans and authority that I can respect.

When the world shut down, so did I. Not leaving my home for nearly three months, it took a drive around town with my hubby and two sons on Mother’s Day 2020 to see the world was still moving, even though it looked and felt drastically different.

The parts of Me I miss most are not parts I can see in a rearview mirror or parts some stranger can see in the baby food aisle at the grocery store. Me is not some shiny exterior, lacquered and gleaming.

The ability to be vulnerable with others is a uniquely difficult place to be. You are spilling some of your innermost thoughts and feelings with no idea how the person on the other side will react. The definition of vulnerability shows just how difficult this act can be: Vulnerability is “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.”

Maybe part of self-care is recognizing that real life isn’t as simple as a self-care checklist formula for happiness. Trial and error – also known as mistakes – are the tools that give us the experiences to keep going and growing.

I want to feel everything that 2020 has given me. I don't want to pretend things are fine and lock away my thoughts and feelings. I don't want to distort the reality.

What comes to mind when YOU think about faith. What does it mean to you? How does it (or doesn't it) impact your life?

In the past I’ve been judged negatively, as we all have, for our looks, our body type, our choice of clothing, our hair style, what we say, how we behave. It is these judgments that fuel that cruel inner voice and lead us to be self-conscious to the point of self-sabotage.

I know, “hope” isn’t something that is probably going to be associated with 2020 in the long run. This year has been HARD. But now that it’s almost over, I want us to push those thoughts to the side and think about the concept of hope.

The one time I met a man who I’m pretty sure was God, I was working at a restaurant. One of those mid-scale American fusion chains that inexplicably offers both wok-fried shrimp and pot roast with potatoes.

During this pandemic, it can feel that we’re all trudging through day after day in the same way. But the truth is, my experience is different from yours and is different from anyone else’s.