Fortitude.

I wasn't built for everyday life. I wasn't created to master the mundane.

I was made to triumph over tragedy. To conquer emergencies and long-term tribulations alike.

Sure, some of this fortitude was created by my early circumstances - learning how to survive in an abusive environment. But my early journals reveal this constant questioning about my ability to thrive despite the lack of care. Why me? How, exactly am I still smiling?

Age and a tiny bit of maturity have helped me to hone this craft of mine. They offer a bit of direction where I know only how to keep my head afloat. In the quiet times, when the tide has receded and daily life is just vacuuming and groceries - this is where I used to struggle. In previous chapters of my life, I have failed miserably at being content when my life doesn't feel threatened.

At 37, I have arrived.

I have stepped fully into these shoes which are capable of withstanding the flood and also just resting in the fuzzy socks beneath. I've learned how to relax. How to breathe deeply and with peace.

It's that inner fortitude and past hard experience that actually allows me to find the calm spaces now. I know that I can handle anything. I know what I'm capable of. I'm so grateful to not need those skills constantly anymore - but they are there when I do.

Time and strength are on my side.

So I can breathe.