Out of bed. Drive to class. Eff yes. I’m KILLING IT! New year, betches!!!!
You hit every damn red light. Construction. Eff. You’ll get there just. on. time.
Your smoothie spills onto the car floor. @#$#*?! That’ll leave a lovely smell for ten years.
And you remember your lunch is at home (I even PACKED it. I mean, I made quinoa and EVERYTHING. Like, sprinkled it on top of a SALAD that hasn’t went bad in my fridge. Then looked around my kitchen self-righteously, ‘Did everyone see what I just did? I prepped a meal with quinoa AND kale. That’s right. Recognize...
You get to your Control class and look around @!?@&>#/b###
You immediately zero in that chick’s triceps (well, she does the hard burpees with push-ups).
Another girl’s abs (I didn’t know it was possible to wear a crop tank without high-waisted pants?!)
The person to the left. To the right.
I bet they didn’t forget their damn salad. They probably made their own dressing too.
You look down at your tank (that doesn’t really match) and there’s a toothpaste stain. Shit, two toothpaste stains. How is that even possible?
What you don’t know is those people, those same people you were comparing yourself to forgot their deodorant, their toothpaste. They’re struggling with that boss, that mother-in-law, that debt.
The one wishes they were better at Control because they’re more of an Ebb & Flo type.
The other wishes they were better at Control.
Birds eye view? Everyone is looking around, taking that Sharpie highlighter on others’ triceps, abs, outfit, lunch, life.
And then, looking down at their own toothpaste-stained tank.
Can we all just get over this comparison thing that we like to do with other people? I mean, really. It’s effing exhausting. We beat the shit out of ourselves, comparing ourselves to filtered pictures, perfect posts, people we don’t know. People we do know.
Beating the shit out of ourselves because we’re not perfect. We’re not them.
Lemme tell ya something: No. One. Has. It. All. Together.
No one does. Not Darcy. Keri. Gretchen. Matt. Billy. Scotty. (who the eff are Billy & Scotty?). Kate Middleton. The chick that makes her own juices. Churchill. That yogi you follow on IG. ANYONE.
Everyone forgets their lunch, spills that smoothie, has a stain on their shirt, can’t do fill-in-the-blank move. Worries. Cries. Stresses. Exhausts.
It is part of being human.
So, can we all just agree to embrace MESSY? Our unique mess?
We’re messy because, well, shit, life is messy.
A beautiful messy. A unique messy. Our own messy. That we’re all workin’ on together.
We compare our backstage to another’s on-stage performance. We assume the grass is greener on the other side. We assume we will never measure up. And so, sometimes we give up.
We’re afraid to go to that class because “we’re not there yet”, “we’re not fit enough yet”, “we’re not a morning person, night person, exercise person….LIKE THEY ARE.”
We count ourselves out because we’re so exhausted beating the shit out of ourselves.
But, folks, the grass isn’t greener. Never was. Never will be.
So this month, we say, we ask, we plead: own your damn yard. Water your damn grass. And stop worrying about everyone else’s.
You have weeds? Pull ‘em.
You can’t do burpees? Modify.
You aren’t a morning person? Want to be? Go to bed earlier.
Go to that class you’re not good at. Be that vulnerable mess. Because that takes guts.
Own that beautiful mess that is you and your life. And if you want more, go for it.
Because you can’t move forward before you own it.
Be you. That’s who we want.
Sweat. Snot. Tears. Mismatched socks.
We don’t edit digital studio for a reason. We’re real on Check Yourself.
We give you us. Messy us. And we want you. Messy you.
Let’s kill this month together.
Loves you longtime-