It’s two in the morning, it’s been a long but good day, and I don’t know what to write about. Tonight’s blog is number 362, the first of “the final four” that will complete “year one,” so it feels like it should be profound. But–chances are–it won’t be. Still, at least I’m here writing. Barring something catastrophic, I’ll soon be celebrating having written every day for a year, at which point it won’t matter which posts were profound and which weren’t. At that point what will matter is that each post, just like each piece of a puzzle, has contributed to the entirety or the wholeness of this project.

Today my therapist and I celebrated the anniversary of our first session together, which was technically four years ago this last Saturday. (My friend Bonnie refers to this date as my “psycho-versary.”) Granted, the “party” wasn’t a huge deal–like, Zac Efron didn’t jump out of a cake or anything. We didn’t even have streamers. But we did take a few moments to acknowledge all the progress I’ve made and all the work that both of us have done these last several years. This is something I hope to do more often–stop and recognize how far I’ve come, rather than simply thinking, But I have so much further to go.

Tonight I taught a dance lesson at a friend’s house, and this afternoon she sent me a message that said, “If you show up early, the boys (her young sons) would like to show you the Legos they put together over spring break.” Y’all, these kids are adorable. For maybe twenty minutes they showed me their all the toys and gadgets they’ve put together recently. And despite the fact that most the toys were recommended for children below the age of ten, I was fascinated. I used to play with similar toys when I was their age, and I still love figuring out how one thing connects to another.

As the boys were showing me their treasures, they kept using a phrase I’ve never heard children use before. They’d say, “One new thing we gained is this robot” or “One other thing we gained is this dinosaur.” That word–gained–is something I’ve been chewing on tonight. First, I’ve been thinking about the fact that gain implies something positive and worthwhile, something you’re proud to have. Like, I’d never say, “I gained another sinus infection.” But I’ve also been thinking that in order to gain something, you have to lose something else. In order to gain something, you have to pay a price. The boys, for example, may not have had to purchase their toys, but somebody did, and the boys at least had to spend their time putting the toys together.

As I think about it now, I realize that how a person spends their time and resources is a dead giveaway as to what they value. Like, I can look at the boys’ room and tell they LOVE building things, creating things, and learning. Personally, I love these things too. Also, I love and value writing, which is why I write this blog every day (every damn day). Granted, I lose or give up plenty in order to do so–hours of my time, hundreds of my dollars (for web hosting and design), and missed opportunities (time with friends, etc.). Sometimes, I’m sure I have bitched about these losses. Just tonight I told my friend Bonnie that I was “still” living with my parents. But I’m reminded that for every thing I’ve (willingly) given up in order to write this blog and practice my craft, I’ve GAINED so much more in return.

For one thing, I love, like, and accept myself a hell of a lot more than I used to.

Naturally, this same line of thinking could be applied to my time in therapy. Today I told my therapist that of all the good things that have come out of four years of therapy, the very best–like, above and beyond all the others–has been reconnecting with my authentic self, my truth. Talk about a serious gain. The more authentic I am (the more I share myself “warts and all”), the more comfortable I am in my skin and in the world around me and the less anxiety, stress, and nervousness I feel. Sounds great, right? Well, it is. But big gains, naturally, come at a high price. In my case, I’ve spent countless hours and dollars on therapy, books, and other personal growth material. I’ve shed a lot of tears and had a lot of hard conversations.

Still, every minute, every cent, and every challenging thing has been worth it because I’ve gained me. (Now I think, What a terrible thing, to live without yourself.) In this sense, just like I think every blog post is important because each is a link in an unbroken chain, I’m starting to think that every good, bad, and ugly thing in my life is important, perhaps even necessary, because each has somehow brought me to where I am now, this place where I’m meeting myself. I’m always saying that I don’t recommend this inward journey (because it’s hard), but that’s not true. It is hard, but I absolutely recommend this inward journey because in my experience it’s the only way to really put the pieces of your life together, to see how one thing connects to another, to finally become whole.