Content, right now?! Me?!

I've learned that "journaling" is beneficial both physically and psychologically. Studies show that journaling (expressive writing) decreases stress-related doctor visits, reduces blood pressure, improves mood, helps individuals to "step-back" and evaluate a traumatic situation objectively, etc., etc. And for some strange reason, I've decided to put my "junk" out there. I suppose that in writing 1. I will benefit somehow (see above list) and 2. Perhaps my "junk" and my walks through the "valley" will help others while they are walking through their valley and sorting/throwing out their "junk". (Not that I want this blog to be me ranting, or crying, or wallowing in the past, because from day-to-day my mood changes, but more so, I want to share my life and perhaps hold someone's hand as they walk through their life's journey).

I start tonight, by talking about my adjective for the day: content. So for today, this is, "The Diary of a Content Mexican Woman."

I started today by weighing myself on that wretched thing called the scale. I don't know why I do it, but I do it everyday. It's like I'm on crack or something. Seriously, if I don't know how much I weigh everyday, I start tweaking out and my lips turn blue...ok, ok, it's not that bad, but pretty close. My weight is constantly on my mind and I think that most of the time it affects my daily "adjective." For example, today for most of the day, this day's adjective would be "fat." I hate that I base one of my daily adjectives on that number, but I do. So there. But later down in this post you'll find out why I changed it to content-so stay tuned homies.

To the good stuff!

It's bed time and I am reflecting on my day, and I've decided this is why I am content: The man that I absolutely loved, no adored, decided he didn't love me and asked me to leave his life by divorcing me. His reasons, I don't know them all, and I don't understand it all and I wish that I wasn't suffering the way that I am. I feel like I have been emotionally kicked, beaten down, spit on, rejected and at the root, been told that I am not enough. The pain of it all is unimaginable at times.

Before the big D (the day he told me he wanted a divorce), I knew that I was a pretty good person and had some good qualities, (I think we all tell ourselves that), but, sadly, how I really "felt" or "perceived" myself was what "he" thought about me. I didn't have a solid identity (sheesh! A 27 year old dealing with identity issues!?!). Sure, I was a "Christian", "educated","friendly", "nice", "loving", etc., but what do all the "adjectives" mean when they aren't grounded on something that is solid? I mean, so what? You're a Christian, aaaand? So what? You're educated, aaaaand? What do they all mean? What or who do they benefit? Go on, keep giving yourself your pretty little qualities, if that makes you feel better, Reyna. See at the root, I don't know who I am, what I am doing with my life, or what the heck is going on in my life...but I now know this: God made me the way that I am, and He loves me, the way that I am. And accepts me, the way that I am. And cherishes me, the way that I am. And even though "humanity" might reject me, and who I am, God doesn't. I need to work at growing roots in THAT truth-and nothing else. What I may think, "he" may think, or another "he" may think is fine and dandy, but in the scheme of all things, the only adjective that should matter is that I am His (possessive adjective) Reyna, and no one else's, and with that, I am content