Self-loathing.
That’s what I feel right now.
Today felt like a continuation of yesterday. I woke up with a little less gratitude and a lot more noise in my head—thoughts racing a million miles an hour. I tried to shake it off, tried to set a positive tone, but… it didn’t really stick.
Kindergarten was… well, kindergarten. I’d love to say I was leading with light, but honestly? I was just trying to hold it together.
During our morning meeting, I introduced a new mantra to my students:
✨ I am calm. I am kind. I listen, I learn, and I shine. ✨
They loved it. The energy lifted—for about two minutes. But when it came time to put words into action? Total flop.
This year’s class is high-needs. The impulsivity is off the charts. But that’s the thing about kindergarten—you never know what you’re going to get. No labels, no diagnoses, just 17 little souls starting fresh. It really is like Forrest Gump said: a box of chocolates.
Last year, I got “easy.”
This year, I got “hard.”
But I love them all. I really do. Even on the days they make me want to walk out the door and not come back.
My husband has told me a story a few times about his fifth-grade teacher. She was young, carefree, and clearly in over her head. One day, the class got too wild, and without saying a word, she stood up, walked out, and never came back. Just left. Gone.
Some days, I think of her.
Actually, a lot of days, I think of her.
By lunchtime, my mood had tanked—and my choices followed. Carbs on carbs. They tasted amazing, but I know I’m going to feel it in the morning when I step on the scale.
And yes, I know that’s a toxic way to think. I’ve struggled with disordered eating in the past. I was so thin when I got married—like 105 pounds. Now I’m 43, I’ve had five kids, and I’m sitting at 135. I know that’s not “bad.” But I can’t help but feel frustrated. My ideal is 120. My dream? 110. And I hate that those numbers still have power over me.
Then there’s the wine.
Half a bottle on a weeknight isn’t unusual. On weekends? Don’t ask.
It’s my one exhale. My reset. But I know it’s a slippery slope.
My life is full. But also?
It’s a lot.
My kindergartners drain me. My five kids at home drain me. And I love them all deeply—but it doesn’t mean it’s easy.
And yet… even today, even now, I write. I journal. I recommit to my 365-day journey of manifesting the life I want. Not because I feel like it—but because I promised myself I would.
✨ Gratitude Practice
Today I’m grateful for:
Stretchy skirts. Comfy PJs. Warm baths. Patios on 70° days.
Our home. Our cars. My job. Our health.
My childhood. My husband. Green grass. T-shirts. TV. A comfy bed.
Mexican food. Air conditioning. Fireplaces. Swimming pools.
Books. Laughter. Electricity. Running water. The internet.
Our future. Our family. My students.
And always, always—my children.
🌟 Manifestation Practice
I am so happy and grateful now that money is abundant.
It flows to us easily, and our banks are overflowing. There is always more than enough.
I am so happy and grateful now that we travel the world, treating our loved ones to first-class adventures and five-star stays. Romantic getaways, family vacations, spontaneous trips—we do it all.
I am so happy and grateful now that we live in our dream home on the lake. It’s huge, breathtaking, and filled with peace, laughter, and light.
I am so happy and grateful now that I am a successful writer who works from home, living my purpose and loving every second of it.
I am so happy and grateful now that my husband is professionally fulfilled, doing work that excites and inspires him.
I am so happy and grateful now that good fortune is our norm.
Good things always happen to us. Miracles are constant.
I am so happy and grateful now that I drive my dream car—a white Escalade that fits our family and our lifestyle perfectly.
I am so happy and grateful now that my body is at its ideal weight.
I eat nourishing food that makes me feel good and never feel deprived.
I am so happy and grateful now that our life is overflowing with joy, love, and adventure.
So yeah… today wasn’t my best. But it’s one day. One imperfect, messy, real day in a long journey of becoming. And even though I didn’t lead with light every moment, I wanted to. I tried to. That counts for something. Tomorrow, I’ll try again—maybe with a little more grace, a little less Goldfish, and the same stubborn hope that keeps me coming back to the page. I’m not giving up. I’m just getting started. 🌙✨
The Manifest Study 