I woke up. I had no back pain or a headache. My vision was clear not cloudy. I didn’t sweat or lose anymore hair overnight. And, my legs carried me to the bathroom without my cane easily. For me this was the start of a good day.
I wonder if I’ll have something blog about today? I thought as I brushed my teeth.
I walked backed over to my nightstand and picked up my phone which was flashing 7:30. It was then. I realized it was February 1st, the start of Black History Month.
I completed a blog post a day for 31 days, I thought. This means I found something to be joyful about every day (except Sundays) for a month.
None of my posts went viral, I thought. Most of them were not shared by the readers. I didn’t get a string of comments nor was I instantly discovered and given a book contract. But, that’s okay. I accomplished my goal. I shared my truth. I found happiness despite the pain and difficulty of living my life as a chronically ill, disabled, aging, Black woman who works full-time to support herself. I feel blessed and energized to begin a new month of essays.
Instead of waiting for something else great to happen today, I should write about this feeling, I thought. I should celebrate my accomplishment, no matter how small it is because it’s mine. And, I’m proud of myself.
I picked up my phone and began typing.
Read days 1-31: https://nikabeamon.com
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