Your body is in a never-ending state of burning, stoking, fueling, respirating, healing, aging, detoxing, eliminating, growing, cycling, and consuming. It will never be stagnant. There is no end point, ever, until you die. (And actually not even then, because you’ll start to decompose!)
These daily fluctuations might be subtle, but that doesn’t mean they’re not happening. By denying or resisting your own transitory nature, you will make yourself utterly miserable.
Most of us do pick up on these changes, whether we’re tuned into them every second or every few days. (How many times have you been guilty of muttering, “I feel so fat today” to your best friend?)
Acknowledging them is not only okay, it’s normal. Society likes to make women out as “crazy” for having feelings, intuition, and sensitivity. We’re judged by standards that were never meant for us, thanks to the patriarchy and our sexually repressed Anglo-Saxon foundation.
Guess what? “Sensitivity” just means we have the gift of being able to pick up on subtle sh*t. If someone calls you “too sensitive,” what they really mean “you’re making me feel crazy because I can’t see the subtle things you see, and I don’t like that.”
Immediately let go of any narrative you’ve been clinging to that your emotions or ability to perceive things make you crazy. They don’t.
If you desperately crave arrival at an end point, where you can finally rest from the exhausting pursuit of you…