I’ve never been one for resolutions, or even New Year’s, really. But, I do believe in goals and as 2016 started to come to a close, I began to reflect a lot on the year, and myself.

As I thought back on the year, I realized that it felt as though a dark cloud was constantly hanging above me, one that seeped through to my soul. I acknowledged to myself that my mental health has suffered, that I’ve felt more than a little blue, and in turn, some of the things I loved quickly vanished, replaced by emotional eating and lack of sleep. Workouts became nonexistent, running stopped, my jeans got tighter, and my exhausted mind, body, and soul could barely form the words it needed to in order to write. I didn’t feel like me- I didn’t feel much like anyone; more like the faceless mum à la Charlie Brown, doing everything for the kids and nothing for myself, rendering me like a character.

So, a resolution was made, in a sense. Though not the drop 20 pounds in two months kind, but the find myself-again- kind. The feel better kind. The smile more kind. I need to work on becoming me, a task that may take years to accomplish, so I may as well start now. Back to where it all started with the 21 Day Fix, building my physical strength for toting around children, but my emotional strength as well, for toting around all the baggage that comes with, almost, 33 years of living. 

More writing, more laughter, more listening, and yes, more talking. Talking about what I need to talk about, asking for help, admitting exhaustion. This year is about finding myself again, as not a mum, but the woman underneath. Reminding myself that I deserve love and laughter and adventure, and most of all, an identity. Because finding oneself truly is the most important resolution of all.