It Takes Practice

It took about a week and a half for me to fall off the wagon.

Maybe shorter. It's easy to slip into old habits. Then circumstances conspire to out bring not only the worst in you, but to take you back. Waaay back.

To hearing myself grumble, a teenager grousing about petty things, peeved that she is hearing things through the grapevine while everyone else was told directly. You know, I didn't particularly like ages 11 through 21 the first time around. I am not enjoying this trip down memory lane.

On another occasion, defensiveness took hold, sharpening my tone and spurting frustration mixed with impatience. Loving responses don't usually come from such a source.

How do you love when you don't trust? When you are accustomed to defending yourself because you feel, you know that no one will defend you? How do you learn?

I always make the mistake of thinking I can get it right the first time. I'm smart, right? I'm supposed to be able to get this. Then I remembered that no one gets this overnight. I stopped beating myself up and put the boxing gloves away. It takes time and practice.

So back to practice.