Life is a Party, So I [Won’t] Cry if I Want To

There are a few moments in life that are meant to be monumental. Life changing, if you will.

These moments, for example, typically include your 16th birthday…prom (and basically all of senior year in general)…high school graduation…your “first time”…college graduation…first job offer…finding out you are having your first child…yadda yadda yadda, all the way down the list. Until the day you die.

That got morbid quick. I’m sorry. I promise this is not that kind of post.

The moments listed above are to be cherished. Celebrated. But what happens when you’re so focused on your next move, your next come up, your next goal, that you don’t take the time to enjoy what’s happening right now?You lose out on time. That’s what happens.

I am a planner by nature. A goal oriented person by blood. My father has known what he wants out of life since he was 10 years old, and has spent the last nearly 40 years working towards just that. It’s what I saw, how I was raised. And while it has it’s obvious advantages, being so future-minded also means I missed out on a lot of the present.

Instead of taking the time to appreciate those monumental moments, my brain was constantly calculating the next step. Over analyzing every situation. I often found it hard to breathe (hello anxiety, you old friend, you) and to cope, I planned. My 16th birthday, when my mom rented a limo and sent me and my friends off to my then boyfriend’s – aka Chris Brown’s – concert in Miami, I panicked when our ride was 5 minutes late, thinking we would somehow end up missing the show. And when my friends decided to sneak down to the front to get up close and personal? Instead of enjoying the sweat glistening from my love’s brow, I was too busy trying to figure out what we would say if security came to embarrass us and escort us back to our assigned seats. My mind just didn’t know how to STOP and enjoy the roses.

This went on. And on. All the way up until 8 months ago, when the birth of my son found me in an emergency c-section. After my doctor pulled him from my stomach, I began hyperventilating over the fact that my congested nose was stopping me from breathing properly. In my head, my immobile, medicated body was going to pass out from exhaustion and die because I could not breathe. When the doctor placed my son on my chest, all I could think was “Dear God, please, don’t let me die on this table before I get the chance to hold my baby in my arms”.

I’m sorry, I know I said this wouldn’t be morbid. I promise, it’s not.

It was the last straw. I’ve always hated that, when hearing other people’s life stories, I couldn’t reflect on my own with happy thoughts because I had been too busy worrying to enjoy them. So I have made it a conscious effort to stop living inside of my head so much, and start living in the moment.There is so much light in our ups, and we need to recognize when we are in our “up” moments so we can treasure them in all of their beauty.

I now make it a point to celebrate everything in life, and I hope you join me. Time is not something you can get back, so don’t gloss through life taking it for granted because it is guaranteed to pass you by if you do.

xoxo,

Dani