34 and Not Sorry About It

Well, hello 34.

34 and Not Sorry About It

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror and thought, you know what? I look incredible. And I’m not going to pretend that’s an accident or apologize for saying it out loud.

The secret to looking this good? Spite. And Pilates. But mostly spite.

Birthday coffee hits different when you’re this confident

Every time someone said “you’re a mom, you should slow down,” I ran faster. Every time someone said “you can’t have it all,” I got it all. And a six-pack. Marcus keeps asking what I want for my birthday and the truth is, I already have it - this body, this confidence, this life where I get to be exactly who I am without apology.

Thirty-four feels powerful. It feels like finally understanding that taking care of myself isn’t selfish, it’s necessary.

Every time someone said ‘you can’t have it all,’ I got it all. And a six-pack.

That wanting to look good and feel strong isn’t vanity, it’s self-respect. That being the mom who shows up to school pickup looking like she has her life together is actually having her life together. So here’s to 34 - the year I stopped shrinking and started taking up all the space I deserve.