During one of my bi-weekly breakdowns (since becoming pregnant), I found myself in the bathroom, my favorite spot for this sort of thing, thinking to myself …

“I’m gonna love you more than I love myself.”

Based on the way society has taught us to romanticize loving someone else more than yourself, some of you may read that and  think it’s a selfless act, something movies are based on. That wasn’t how I meant it.

When I had the realization that after 36 years I’m still not to a point in my life that I can honestly say I truly love myself was a moment of pure rock bottom for me.

current mood board

*All images are sourced from Pinterest

In this particular instance, I was talking to the baby in my belly. I was trying to reassure her that although mommy was hysterically crying about her impending future, the one thing I knew was certain was how much I was gonna love and protect her.

I mean, it’s a crazy idea to think and more importantly to know deep in my bones that this thing happening to me (pregnancy) was going to change to my life for the better and the worse.

After a fight with my husband about much less free time I’m going to have and how much more my life will be filled with tasks I have never accomplished before, I started to realize I have no idea what’s in store for me.

My mind raced with dramatic images of late nights, lack of freedom, and sleep and lots of crying that I couldn’t seem to stop. What would be missing was my peaceful morning meditations, lazy sun lounging, and afternoons spent journaling and reading.

How am I ever going to live? There are days now where I feel like I’m drowning and it feels like I’ve volunteered to put on a weight belt as well.

I want to go back to what I said in the beginning about knowing that I’m going to love this little human being more than life itself, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I haven’t yet fully found it in my heart to love myself the same way.

This is where I get tripped up. This is where the fear really sets in because I’m not ready.

I’m not perfect. I haven't figured out what’s wrong with me. How can I possibly teach another person how to do this thing called life if I still feel like such a mess? As I’m thinking this, I realize how far I have to go because I’m also aware there is no such thing as being ready or perfect.

I share this with you because there isn’t a tidy ending where I tell you how I figured it all out. I haven’t. I’m here surrendering every day to my feelings doing the one thing I know how to do ...  keep moving forward.

Life is far from what people try to portray through social media or movies. It’s raw and messy and hard to witness. But it’s when you stay the course you get a glimpse of something that makes everything worth it.

All my love,

jodi x