Chapter 32

It’s kind of crazy turning 32. I distinctly remember feeling that this particular age was so far away so I basically felt like I blinked and here I am: grad school graduate, married 5 years, and baby boy that’s cuter than I could’ve ever asked….and turning 32. When I thought about my 30’s I always imagined, I’d have it all together. That there was this grand plan that plateaued at 30 and that was the epitome of being a grown up. Boy was I wrong! And I’m so glad I was wrong.

I am still growing, but I will say since I did enter my 30’s, I’ve learned the art of self-reflection. This is a difficult piece of maturity that can be chilling when we search within to find out who we really are and sometimes we come face to face with the fact that we need to change. I never thought I’d be in my 30’s and be a completely different person and in many ways I’m still that 22 year old girl who can get wild when the mood strikes. But those raw parts of me, the parts that never allowed vulnerability, seeing it as a weakness, yet self-criticism was a ritual for me, I not too long ago was faced with challenges that forced me to look at who I truly was and really just started asking myself, “Giana, is this who you want to be?” The answer was no for the most part, so I changed my habits, my thoughts and perspectives. I realized the power of choice and my GOD was that freeing. We all know we have the choice to do or be or say things we want, but have we really ever taken advantage of those choices and actually made them? So what choices have I made ushering me into the 32nd chapter.

  • I have made the choice of happiness. I am choosing to be happy, regardless of circumstance and situation.
  • I am choosing my husband-everyday. Because that’s what marriage is. The choice to love that person every damn day until you die. And I happily make that choice. (We’re renewing our vows soon btw! Stay tuned.)
  • I choose freedom in faith. My unwavering faith in God knowing He’s got me. No questions asked.
  • I choose to create time, instead of complaining that I don’t have it.
  • I choose to be present. Making eye contact when my son calls my name, leaving my phone in the other room while I play with him or put him to sleep.
  • I choose to pour myself into every facet of life where my passion leads.
  • I choose to share. I choose to share my experiences, lessons I’ve learned, the times I’ve fallen. Because mistakes are what make us great. And hiding those mistakes in shame does no one any good.
  • I choose to learn. I choose to accept that I don’t know everything and that every moment is an opportunity to grow.
  • I choose to be brave-standing firm in who I am, drawing boundaries, and demanding self-respect. From strangers, friends, and family. It’s important to see that there are limits to what we accept into our spaces.
  • I choose to see each road block as a redirection to something better instead of using my energy to move it.
  • I choose to see every person I meet and everyone in my life as a teacher with a lesson. Whether they see it that way or not. I choose to ask myself what I can learn from every encounter.
  • I choose to let my curls be crazy sometimes and not really care.I choose to see make up as an addition to beauty and show my son a woman’s natural beauty.
  • I choose to accept the responsibility of being a mother and understanding that sometimes it means putting myself, my well-being, and mental wellness first.
  • I choose to be my best everyday and I choose to understand that my best each day can look different.

That being said, hello 32!

XO,

GV

It Is Not Bad Thing to Celebrate a Simple Life -J. R. R. Tolkien

There’s a certain high I get scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram accounts that are perfectly edited. I mean the whole nine-lighting, placement, color scheme, and even background images all sing praises of the organized individual behind the shot. I often wonder what kind of time the staging takes because between naps and nursing, I’m rushing to inhale my half assed meal and put on some decent clothes and make-up to look like I didn’t just wake up.

That being said, the mommy pressure is ON. From middle school onto high school and sometimes even in college, proving yourself is an extra-curricular we all sign up for. Whether we like it or not, there’s a sense of being right for time in our lives and that’s just the way we’re wired. Proving ourselves to others may not be the thing, but proving ourselves to ourselves? My main thing is being the mommy of all trades. Can I get ready for the day, look flawless, and then have an even more so flawlessly looking baby? All the while executing errands and feeling superb while I’m at it. That pressure to prove something continues on well past college and right along into mommy-hood. But why?

It’s not a life long goal to have fancy pictures that reflect my life, but I think there’s something to those dreamy pins and hashtags. There’s something to chaos that comes with being a mother and sometimes that means having a spotless house, but then sometimes that means stepping on toys and getting pinched and scratched by a 21 pound baby boy. I’ll snap that and share it. Share the reality. My reality. Because honestly-who’s looking