In my Healing Era, I guess.

Did you know that when Flamingos give birth they lose their pink, and then eventually, they get it back. I don’t know how long it takes, but I don’t think it was this long. October 1st, I started on a journey of getting back to myself. My son is five and the new mom thing just doesn’t work anymore. I woke up at 6 am, didn’t look at my phone and I got on the walking pad and walked for 15 minutes. That was the first time in 3 years that I did any type of actual physical exercise. I stretched for 15 minutes and I prayed for 15 minutes. It was different. I felt joy. I felt happiness in having an hour to myself to charge and take care of me first thing in the morning. I had breakfast, I got ready, I woke up my boys with hugs and kisses and whispered, “babe, I did it” to my husband. I felt accomplished. For the first time, I set an intention and I didn’t make an excuse. I wasn’t too tired and stayed in bed. I got up, came to the living room, put on Netflix and just did what I intended to do that morning.

That doesn’t seem like a lot, but so much came with it. More alone time meant more time with my thoughts. I wake up, I go to work, I come home, I am a wife, my son comes home, I’m a mom. Then after bedtime, I’m a wife again and when it’s time for bed, there’s no more for me. So I decided I would wake up earlier than everyone everyday and fill my cup first so that I had where to pour from when it was time for them. I move my body. I released anything that made me uncomfortable the day before. I enjoyed an episode without having to stop a million times. I talked to God. I thanked him early in the morning. I spent time with him. I asked him to guide me for the rest of the day and allow me to be my best. Something uncomfortable came from that. I had to shed parts of me. I had to let go of the anxiety that I was going to mess my life up. You tend to hold on to feelings of unworthiness because it makes failure a little easier to accept. I had to leave that alone. I gave my worries to God and I focused on myself.

So this month I spent it shedding. Shedding those fears and that self anger. I started loving myself, accepting that I am here and this is the only place I need to be. I am a mother, I am a wife but I am so much more. I couldn’t truly give my family the best of me if I didn’t first create that. A confident mother so that my son can grow up to never look down on women and that women can be bad ass. A happy wife who allows her man to protect and love and allows the feeling of safety which is the greatest act of love a man can give you. I started failing at my job because I allowed those anxieties to flourish at the office. Feeling I wasn’t good enough to have that opportunity to grow and to learn and to walk through doors that I’ve only dreamed of. My boss told me to get my shit together and I am forever grateful for the reminder that it really is all in my head.

I refused to allow myself grace for a long time. Allowing myself to be and exist and letting that be all I do sometimes. Understanding I will get everything I want I just have to know I will mess up a lot on my way there. It’s okay if one day I’m really tired and the only part of my routine I could do was wake up. I couldn’t work out but at least I did my skincare, I did my makeup, and I looked nice. Grace for me showed up in the ways I told myself “you are still on the way”. My goals are to make it big, be so famous I can’t even go to CVS. “Oh my God that’s the New York Times bestseller Rossy Gil.” “That is the author that won a Pulitzer prize for her book/essay “The Penthouse I Promised You”. And i’ll get there. I just have to work on me first. I have to make sure that I am strong, physically, emotionally, mentally. God will give it to me when he’s ready. But before he does that, I have to shed. I had to lose all my leaves (okay fall metaphor). I have to go through the ugly gloomy phases of winter. I have to allow myself these shitty seasons to get to spring. This was never about the seasons, you know what I’m saying. It’s about you and how you’re going to spend these moments of uncomfortable and ugly knowing it’s going to hurt for a little while but in the end, pretty and peace was guaranteed. You feel me?

I’m still keeping up with my routine, but allowing God to help and giving myself grace is everything. They don’t allow us women to just be. We are conditioned to be last. We are expected to take care of it all with nowhere to pour from. I want to be the best version of myself for me because I cannot be anything for anyone unless I am first that for me. I cannot pour from an empty cup, I cannot love with a heavy heart. So if you’re a boy reading this. to the lady in your life, be nice to her. If you’re a girl reading this, please be nice to you, be patient with you, you will get there, you are already perfect so take care of you. Mind, body, soul.