There’s a reason why you’re doing this, why you made this commitment- again- why you refuse to be bucked off, circling around your old rival, why you just won’t quit.

I want to be the best version of me. I want to have energy and the health to go with it. Live a long and healthy life doing the things I love, comfortable in my own skin. Hiking, kayaking, paddle boarding, traveling with ease, easing the ache in my joints, doing the things in reality that I envision for myself in my mind.

I want to like what I see when I look in the mirror, I don’t want to cringe when I see pictures of myself, or hide behind my kids that are too quickly growing taller than me.

I want my clothes to fit, and then be too big, then my smaller ones to fit, then get too big as well. I want to wear my pre-kid clothes myself instead of passing them on to my tween, and I want her to see me do it.

I don’t want to be the fat mom. I want to be healthy and limber and lean. As I struggle to find my people in this town where I still feel alone, I don’t want to wonder in the back of my mind if my size is the reason I don’t fit. Whether it be the friend group, the promotion, or the invitation to be included. I don’t identify as fat in my brain- pictures usually come as a shock, shockingly. The me in my head is sexy and strong and carries herself with confidence. She doesn’t align with what’s in the mirror. That’s not the me inside.

I want my outside to match my inside. In counseling we talk a lot about congruence. About all the pieces aligning in the whole. I’m growing, I’m building, I’m becoming. I want my pieces to match.

Good things are coming, it’s true, but good things are also already here. Business aspirations unfolding before my eyes, walking into bigger rooms with bigger stages, the fragmented pieces of my dreams coming together in congruence, the bigger picture starting to make sense and actually look possible, even while I’m still figuring out the details.

And there are details- details that I haven’t figured out as I take step after step of blind faith, daring to dream and speak and pray the big things into existence.

But in every dream, in every detail. I am healthy, full of life, and vigor, and energy. Comfortable in my own skin and these clothes that I wear, in the pictures they take and the hands that I shake, and the example I set for my daughter as well as for those in my sphere of influence.

On a girls’ trip this summer, I stood next to my sisters in a tasting room on a too hot July day. The youngest (and hardest to impress) was making fast friends with the bar man. She introduced our crew in turn. “The stylist, massage therapist, the spiritual healer, the stay at home mom, and business owner,” she finished as she turned to me with a look of respect I won’t forget. “She and her husband are counselors and she speaks and leads and owns her own practice.” My heart heard that.

Last week my daughter drew a portrait of me. At first I was hurt because she drew me at a desk, working. I asked her if she felt like I was always working and is that how she saw me. “No!” She exclaimed. “This is you writing the books you’re going to write and running your own business. You’re a boss lady.” She remembers the dreams she hears me speak, and speaks them back to me when I forget.

She’s watching. My sisters are watching. So are my clients, and so many more. It’s easy to forget that others see me, and that more than I realize are paying attention. People are always watching, for better or for worse, and the influence and mark I leave matters. I want to set the best example I know how to set. In all things. And I want to be healthy enough to keep up, to thrive, to shine.

I want the outside to match the inside. My outer self to be in congruence with my inner self. I want to prove to myself that I can do it. That I am not my own rival at all- she is me, and I love her. I want to lead and blaze a trail- for my daughter and all who follow. And I want to do it healthy, proud of the path that I carve, and of the figure I cut while I do it.