Count Your Wins

All of them

To be honest, I was gonna skip this month’s newsletter. November’s multiple retrogrades got to me, and I felt unaccomplished. I'm sure I'm not the only one who sees everyone else post their end of the year recap and think: What have I done this year? Have I wasted another year?

Last month my co-worker asked me how I felt handling snakes now that I've been doing it for months, and I instantly rebutted and told how her I'm not comfortable with the alligators. For reference, this is my first time handling our senior corn snake, Dotti, compared to my most recent time handling our venemous hognose, Remus.

The difference is noticeable, but in my mind, I thought people who handled snakes were fearless and badass, and then there's me who needs a two minute pep talk before I feel comfortable reaching into a snake’s enclosure to grab them. I thought handling snakes would perfectly conquer my fear, but here I am, still nervous when I hold them.

So when my coworker wanted me to feel pride in my feat, I was ashamed. I thought there was nothing to be proud of if I didn't accomplish the goal the way I thought it was supposed to be accomplished. But she was trying to show me that progress is an accomplishment. It's like writing a rough draft. They're never perfect, but taking that first step is something to be proud of and something to improve upon. Despite it not being the full-blown life-changing growth I hoped for, it's still an improvement from where I started, and that's a win.

Now I'm trying to look back over the year while extending grace to myself. There are many things I accomplished this year: publishing another book, getting monetized on YouTube, moving out of state by myself, starting a new job, and winning a podcast award. I even got to see most of my friends multiple times this year despite us all living in different states.

So maybe I wasn't able to tackle my big goals for the year. Maybe my accomplishments didn't fix everything in my life, but that's okay. At least I tried. And next year, I can get better at doing just that.

Until next year,
Leah