Finding Balance in Life: Real Talk

I’m trying to find balance in life, get ready for some real talk. Somewhere between being genuinely happy with my life, and also just… missing stuff.
Like, how can you have all these good things and still sit there thinking, “Yeah, but something’s off”? Why is it easier to obsess over what’s missing than to just chill and enjoy what is?

Beach Walks & Brain Noise. Anyway, I’m walking on the beach. Early morning. Very Instagrammable. Almost nobody here, except me and my chaotic brain.
I have a good life, and I mean it. Motherhood isn’t always easy, but I love my kids with everything I’ve got. They’re sweet and hilarious and sometimes drive me crazy, but I’d throw myself in front of a bus for them — preferably not the same one they refuse to take to school.

I have a husband.
He’s a man. That’s basically the full sentence. He’s decent, loves me (I think), and annoys me just the right amount to remind me I’m married. We’re both not perfect, but we try. Or at least pretend to. Close enough.

And still — I miss my friends back home. I miss… I don’t know… being seen. Or just someone asking how I’m reallydoing instead of “What’s for dinner?”
I miss softness. But also, I roll my eyes at it. Welcome to my brain.

Sometimes I think I’ve been tough for so long, I forgot how to let the soft parts speak. But they’re still in there — whispering, nudging, showing up when I least expect it.

The Little Things That Ground Me. And maybe I just need to shut up and pay more attention to what’s already there.
Like this morning. My daughter asks, “Mom, can you drive me to school? I don’t want to take the bus, I’ll miss you.”
Cue me sighing dramatically and thinking, seriously? The bus exists for a reason.
But then I look at her — walking into that huge school, hair a mess, backpack bigger than her — and she just owns it. Like the little legend she is.

And the best part? She skips the daily high five from the “sheriff” at the school gate. Why?
“Not hygienic,” she says.
That’s my girl. Germ-aware and gloriously stubborn. Every other kid is slapping hands, and she’s just like, no thanks, I value my immune system.
She’s eight and already choosing her own path. I didn’t even know what “boundaries” were at that age. I just did what grown-ups told me because that’s what we were trained to do — follow, obey, smile politely.

But she doesn’t. And I love that.
I tell her: don’t be a sheep. Unless you want to be a sheep. Then be the fluffiest damn sheep you can be. Just make sure it’s your choice. Honestly, watching her be so sure of herself reminds me how much I’m still learning, still figuring it out. Maybe we’re both growing up at the same time, just in different ways.

And maybe I need to do the same — to unlearn all the people-pleasing, the “shoulds,” and appreciate what’s already right in front of me.

I’m not a perfect mom. Hell, I’m barely a functioning adult most days.
But I try. And I love hard. And maybe that’s what matters most. I show up, even when I don’t feel like it. I laugh with them, cry with them, eat corndogs for dinner with them. That counts for something, right?

So yes — I’m happy. In a messy, overwhelmed, not-always-showered kind of way.
I’m at the beach. My head is (almost) quiet. The day is mine.
I’ll write. Maybe clean something. Or not. I’ll feed the kids, pretend I know how to cook, take them to dance class, and sneak in a kitchen dance party for myself.

I have friends. One here. A few back home. And honestly? That’s enough.
I don’t need a village. I just need the right one. One that gets me. One that lets me show up messy and still saves me a seat.

Maybe this season of life isn’t about thriving. Maybe it’s about figuring out what enough feels like.
Discover what truly makes me happy, what keeps our family strong through life’s ups and downs, and what it really means to feel okay—even when life is feeling far from perfect. Maybe it’s about letting go of the pressure to have more, be more, prove more.

And yeah, we do cool stuff. We travel. Guatemala, maybe Jamaica. We make memories that most people only dream of.
And when friends or family visit, it’s not casual — it’s magic. Because time is rare now. And that makes it mean more.

So yes — this story started a little meh. A little “ugh, why am I like this?”
But it’s a happy one. A real one. It’s a reminder that the life I want? It’s already here.
I was just too busy doom-scrolling through my brain to notice it.

And maybe I just need to check in with myself more often. Not with a journal or a mindfulness app. Just like this — a beach walk, some real thoughts, and a little perspective. Something simple. Something honest. A little reminder that I’m still here..

Because honestly, maybe I already have what I need.
It’s been here all along, doing jazz hands right in front of me, while I focused on everything I didn’t have.

So yeah — thanks for listening. Or reading. Or whatever this is.
Another little brain dump from my chaotic heart. Another reminder that I’m not broken — just thinking too much.

Conclusion?
I’ve got this. I just need to look in the right direction.

And you?
You’ve got this too. Life is weird. Beautiful. Messy. Worth it.

Be happy. Cry when you need to. Take the damn nap.
And remember: sometimes, everything you want is already in your hands. You just have to stop scrolling and see it.

And maybe — just maybe — that’s where joy starts. Not in having more, but in seeing what’s already yours.Love you.