You know, six months ago the feedback and ‘no’s from the MasterChef judges would have sent me into a tailspin of self doubt and hate.
The internal dialogue would have been along the lines of ‘I’m so humiliated’, ‘I’m hopeless’, ‘I knew it, I can’t really cook at all’, ‘they hated me’.
I would still be crying.
The internal dialogue is more along the lines of ‘GOD I hope I don’t look like an idiot’, ‘I wasn’t what they were looking for’, ‘I made the wrong sort of dish for the judges’
know again just how debilitating that self doubt hate is.
Yesterday, the third day of the school year, saw the boys ride their bikes/scooters to school with me pushing Grover in the stroller.
I was joyous.
Sweaty but joyous.
Life, it is good.