I am grateful for:
The lovely apartment I get to fall asleep and wake up in day after day and call my own.
This body, which has been such a source of stress over the last decade, but which continues to heal itself and recover and develop new strength for everything I need it to do. As much as I bitch and moan about my health problems, I think the important thing is I’ve learned not to take my body for granted. I so appreciate the days when I can move without pain, the days when I can add a new pose to my yoga practice that, just a few years ago, would’ve looked impossible to me.
My boss and coworkers, who have all been so so incredibly supportive as I wrap up these last few weeks at this job and transition to working entirely for myself.
The yoga studio where I practice daily, and my teachers and teacher training cohort, for being so nurturing and inspirational. And for showing me that I’m stronger than I believe, both in mind and body.
My brilliant agent! For signing me, for already being amazing, for believing in the book of my heart.
The cousins I’ve only recently reconnected with, who are so wonderful and generous and make me feel like I’ve really gained siblings as an adult.
My lovely in-laws, who have definitely become true family to me over these last 7+ years.
My friends, old and new, especially the ones who have been cheering me on, who have listened to me obsess and worry and thrill and panic about my writing and editing, and whether to leave my job, and whether I was doing anything right. And those who have humored my endless streams of text conversations. All these fabulous people have been the ones to keep me sane.
My fellow Bodega Magazine editors, who are forces of nature, who work so amazingly hard, who I am so freaking lucky to get to collaborate with.
My mentor and my critique partners, for being such careful and dedicated readers, for sending the best emails and texts and editorial comments and surprise packages, for talking me down from my frenzied peaks of despair, for being the best human beings in general.
My parents, who have always been my biggest cheerleaders, who have always encouraged me to share my stories. Who made the incredible switch — that no one saw coming — from the mindset of “do what’s practical” to “do what you love most”.
My husband, who is absolutely superhuman, who cooks all the food and runs all the laundry so that I can chase those extra minutes of writing, who squeezed me so hard when he finished reading the book I wrote this year, who could not possibly be any more perfect.