Sometimes we forget that we are enough. At the age of fifty-two I sometimes struggle to remember who I am and what I represent. I forget my story and my gifts and what makes me unique. At times I’ve gotten lost in relationships, rejection, life’s “stuff”, and the aging process. With so much going on, insecurities can creep in and one can begin to feel like they need to be more…better or different.

And that’s when the chatter begins…”If only my stomach was this, or my booty was that…if only my hair didn’t gray, or my eyes didn’t show signs…If only I lived in this type of place, or my account had more zeros, then I would… or then he would…

And then I catch myself and I pause to examine not just the image of the woman looking back at me in the mirror, but my intentions, my journey, mistakes made, the way I talk, my spiritual walk, lessons I’ve learned, how I treat people and mostly I examine my heart. And then I sit back and smile. It’s in those moments of deep reflection when I am reminded that I am enough. Right here, right now, just like I am.