Wrong

Are you wrong?

Wrong, not for taking everything so personally lately, but for beating yourself up because you feel what you feel?

Wrong, not for crying at the drop of a hat, but for hiding yourself behind the bathroom door while tears run down your cheeks?

Wrong, not for looking at everything you haven't done, but for feeling so much pressure to do all of it?

Wrong, not for standing up for yourself, but for thinking that maybe you shouldn't have?

Wrong, not for wanting to take a day off and go swimming in this heat, but for deciding you don't have time for that enjoyable activity in your life? 

I've decided I am indeed wrong. 

I AM Wrong, not for driving past my favorite house of all time like a stalker, but for never sending the homeowner a note asking her to give me the right of first refusal should she ever decide to sell it.

I AM Wrong, not for ordering the ice cream, but because I didn't savor it; too busy counting calories while I numbly ate it. 

I AM Wrong, not for feeling so lost and lonely after a recent death, but for attempting to put my grief on a timeline. 

I AM Wrong, not because my writing, my self care, my time spent exercising, and my time devoted to learning has been almost zero on the priority list lately, but because I have not faced my reflection in the mirror and kindly asked myself why.

W.R.O.N.G. - Ok, now flip that shit. 

Here is how I'm making WRONG acceptable, for me at least:  

Willing to 

Really listen to my voice

Openly and honestly and without ego. 

Nothing, including my old patterns, can make me feel a particular way unless I agree to it.

Growing pains at 50 are something to run to, not run from. 

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