I will be the first to admit – I am really, really, REALLY good at over scheduling my calendar – wanting to do it all. Call it a bad case of FOMO (fear of missing out), or call it what it is (to me, at least) – showing up for your people.
Sometime in my mid-twenties, I started really honing in on who my real friends were. You know, the friends who drop whatever they’re doing to answer your phone call or text when you’re having a breakdown. The ones who say ‘I am going to pick up your kids for you today while your mom is in surgery’ and then when you pick up your kids, they’re bathed, in borrowed PJs, fed and ready for bed. The kind who see you – who see that although you look like you’re holding it together on the outside, you are drowning on the inside….
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