If I was writing this letter two years ago it would have been written very differently. I probably would have berated you for the choices you made. I would have accused you of not trying hard enough to connect with the child in your care, and I would have told you how unimpressed I was with your decisions. There is a good chance that my words would have been unkind and hurtful.
This is the story of a beautiful princess, a community of people who love her, and one magical night that all of us will remember forever. It is amazing what can happen when people come together to surround someone with love.
Baking is my way of interacting with people through their stomachs rather than through words because sometimes the talking becomes too much, even for a people person.
I honestly have completely mixed feelings about this “new me.” I am happy that I am making healthier choices, and proud of the will power I have somehow accrued, but sad that so much of my life needs to be spent thinking about when and what I can eat.
For the adult who is charged with the job of teaching a teenager how to drive this milestone means grey hairs, anxiety attacks, a drastic jump in insurance payments, oh, and some positive things too.
Laugh more, cry more, give more compliments, eat pizza, and learn from your mistakes. New year, new you? Nah. New year, same great you that you have always been, but with a little glitter on top.
I genuinely wish everyone could take a trip to Anajali. I know people say that Disneyland is called the Happiest Place on Earth, but for me Anajali was that place.
This ends now, junk food. We are officially broken up. It’s not you, it’s me. We have had 30 fun years together, and now I am moving on.
Remember, even on the craziest of days, a little shift in perspective can make all of the difference.
Life is rough, and sometimes it just plain sucks, but we need to face it head on. So let’s get out there, moderately happy thirtysomethings, and take on the day!