Rubber band

This last year has left me feeling like a rubber band.

Stretched too many times. Holding far more than it was ever intended to support.

Left on a sunny windowsill a few too many times, the cracked edges are the scars that reveal the sustained pressure.

Because of this, it no longer takes much effort to snap.

One or two things go wrong. Small things. And I feel myself begin to break.

Yet I’m a rubber band that’s very lucky. I live a life I wouldn’t have dared dream of just a few years back. I’m surrounded by people who love me and care deeply for me.

The difference is, rubber bands can’t care for themselves. We can.

We need the support of those around us. Keeping us from being over-stretched and weathered. They notice our cracks, see us breaking, and run to help.

We also need to do some things for ourselves. Taking care starts with feeling compassion.

Remind yourself that you are loved. By others and, importantly, by you.

Start with being loved. Then go do what a person who truly loved themselves would do.