Hey… it’s Anna🖤.
Have you ever realized you’ve been surviving for so long that you forgot what it feels like to actually live?
Because I had that thought the other day.
And honestly?
It stopped me in my tracks.
I think somewhere between work, doctor’s appointments, chronic pain, paying bills, helping my parents, and trying to hold my life together with caffeine free tea and dry humor, I accidentally got really good at surviving.
Too good.
These days my routine is pretty predictable.
The alarm goes off before most people are even thinking about getting out of bed.
I negotiate with my knees.
I stretch my fingers.
I convince my back that yes, unfortunately, we have to do this again today.
Then I make my tea.
That first sip feels like the only decision I’ve made that my body actually agrees with.
After that it’s work.
Cleaning.
Lifting.
Walking.
More walking.
Then I come home completely drained.
Heat pad.
Dinner.
Maybe a little television.
Maybe a podcast.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Sometimes I look up and realize another week has gone by.
I honestly don’t know where it went.
The funny thing is, I used to have all these big plans.
I was going to travel.
I’d imagined a career that looked very different from the one I have now.
I pictured family dinners.
A husband.
Maybe children.
A little house that always smelled like something baking.
Life had other ideas.
And while it doesn’t always look the way I imagined, it doesn’t mean it’s over.
I have to remind myself of that.
Quite often actually.
One thing chronic pain has taught me is that your body can become very loud.
When something hurts every day, it demands your attention.
It changes the way you plan.
The way you move.
The way you think.
Even the way you celebrate.
Some mornings I wake up wondering which body part is going to file a complaint first.
My knees?
My shoulders?
My back?
My hip?
My wrist?
My fingers?
Sometimes I feel like I’m running a customer service department for my joints.
And then there are the little victories.
The days when I wake up and nothing is screaming.
Those days feel magical.
You’d think I won the lottery.
Meanwhile, all that happened was my knees decided to cooperate for twelve whole hours.
The bar is low around here.
Very low.
I’ve also realized something else lately.
I don’t give myself enough credit.
I focus so much on everything that still needs fixing that I rarely stop to appreciate everything I’ve already made it through.
Think about it.
I’ve worked through pain.
I’ve worked through anemia.
I’ve worked through heavy bleeding.
I’ve worked through uncertainty.
I’ve worked while carrying worries about my parents.
I’ve worked while trying to figure out surgeries, appointments, contracts, and bills.
And somehow…
I’m still standing.
Maybe not gracefully.
Sometimes I’m standing with a heating pad attached to me like it’s part of my outfit.
But I’m standing.
I think we spend so much time comparing ourselves to people on the internet that we forget everyone is carrying something.
Some people just hide it better.
You don’t always see the doctor’s appointments.
The anxiety.
The tears.
The sleepless nights.
The moments someone sits in their car after work because they need five minutes before walking inside.
Life isn’t as polished as social media makes it look.
And honestly?
I’m okay with showing the messy parts.
If you’ve been reading my little corner of the internet for a while, thank you.
Thank you for letting me ramble.
Thank you for listening to my complaints about students leaving burners on.
Thank you for celebrating my tiny victories.
Thank you for sitting with me through the scary medical updates.
Some days writing these posts feels like sitting across from a friend with a cup of tea.
And even though I can’t see you, it somehow makes me feel a little less alone.
Lately I’ve been trying to shift my mindset.
Not in one of those “good vibes only” ways.
Life is too real for that.
But I’m trying to notice the little things.
A pain-free morning.
A funny conversation.
A really good cup of tea.
A beautiful sunset.
A text from my mom.
A podcast that makes me laugh.
A day where my body is only mildly offended instead of completely outraged.
Those little things matter.
They’re easy to overlook when life feels heavy.
But they’re there.
I’m still figuring things out.
I’m still learning how to ask for help.
I’m still learning that resting isn’t being lazy.
I’m still learning that it’s okay if my life doesn’t look like someone else’s.
And maybe that’s what your forties are supposed to be.
Less pretending.
More accepting.
More appreciating.
More protecting your peace.
One Day At A Time, Lovelies
If you’re reading this while you’re going through something difficult, I hope you remember this.
You don’t have to have everything figured out.
You don’t have to move at someone else’s pace.
You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.
Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Some days that’s enough.
Actually…
Most days that’s enough.
As for me?
I’ll keep showing up.
I’ll keep writing.
I’ll keep finding humor in ridiculous situations.
I’ll keep cheering when my knees behave.
And I’ll keep believing that brighter days are ahead.
Because after everything life has thrown at me, I’ve learned one thing.
Hope is stubborn.
And so am I.
Until next time, lovelies.
Anna out. 🖤💋
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