Today I sat in my car and cried.
Like, your junior high first breakup kind of cry.
It was just a hard morning.
I was up all night with a sick little heart. Then slept in. Rushed to get the others off to school (but not before I raised my voice one too many times). Dropped them off and rushed back home to tend to the sick.
But before I could go in, I needed to sit in my car and cry.
Sometimes life can be a lot. Sometimes motherhood can be a lot. Sometimes marriage can be a lot. Sometimes a career can be a lot.
Sometimes it just feels like a lot, all at once.
I mean, I try to push through.
And sometimes I can.
But other times?
Other times what I’m carrying on my shoulders just feels really heavy (so much so, that I wonder if people can physically see my knees buckling under the weight).
And can I share a little secret with you?
I also hate to admit what I’m going through.
I hate to say out loud that I am in a tough season.
Maybe I’m worried about the woman with the grown children, who will tell me that she used to be able to do it all. Maybe I feel bad for the grieving woman, who could only wish to have her child still here on earth. Maybe I fear I will be looked at as a failure from the woman who has her crap together, for my not being able to do it all.
So I’ll write this, for those like me who need to read it:
Sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are not failures if we are frustrated, exhausted, or depleted by life.
Sometimes we just need reassurance that there are others in the trenches with us, keeping us company in our messy.
Sometimes we just need another woman to raise her (cold) mug in solidarity, and shout from the other side of the room “I’ve been there, too.”
Sometimes you will find yourself sitting in your driveway, in last night’s pajamas, crying in the car—and you just need to know that you’re not the only one having a rough day.
Thankfully, friends, not every day is a rough day.
But today was.
And that’s OK.
Because I’ll try to do better tomorrow.
This post originally appeared on Love Always, Heather