I got up early today, I have to get up early tomorrow, and I just spent the last hour watching The Voice with my parents instead of writing. We also ate gas station pizza. Today I had lunch with my friend Ray, and he asked if I ever wanted to say, “Fuck it,” and skip a day of blogging. “Only every day,” I said. “Recently I thought, Maybe I could just double up tomorrow and sleep for a change.” Ray said, “That seems like a slippery slope.” I agree, so this is it, this is my life. I write when I’m happy, I write when I’m sad. Most days, I write when I’m tired. I guess this is how parents of infants feel–sleep deprived–putting something (or someone, rather) before themselves. At least my laptop doesn’t require diapers and my blog doesn’t throw up on me.

Now that I think about it, I throw up on my blog.

Last night, unable to go to bed “early,” I started a new Netflix series at three in the morning. The show is called Embarrassing Bodies, and it’s about three British doctors who set up shop in the middle of town so everyday people with medical problems can walk in, sit down, strip down, and get some damn answers. Last night’s episode was about skin disorders, and people showed up with acne, warts, psoriasis, itchy penises, and oversized vaginas. Y’all I was raised in church. I saw more skin than a teenager sees on a porn site. Except for the part when they gave a man a breast reduction and actually cut his nipple off, I couldn’t look away. It was fascinating.

Today I saw my therapist and told her about recently being at a party and comparing myself to other people. I said, “I mean, there is a part of my brain that gets that just because someone is pretty doesn’t mean they have their shit together.” Seriously, my therapist got out of her super comfortable chair she rarely gets out of, gave me a high-five, and did a victory lap around her office. (I thought I was going to have to hand her a water bottle.) But when she sat back down, she said, “When you see someone who’s all put together on the outside, they’re most likely NOT put together on the inside because we only have so much energy to spend on ourselves. The more effort a person puts into impression management, the less effort they have to work on their interior.”

I said, “I’m glad I can recognize that looks aren’t everything, but whenever I’m in those situations, there’s still a part of me that feels like everyone else is a handsome adult and I’m just a teenager with zits on my face.” Then she said, “So why can’t it be both? Why can’t you feel both ways? Our society is so obsessed with black-or-white thinking, but life is gray. It’s okay to feel two things at once.”

Oh. Phew. That’s good to know.

This afternoon I went to a bookstore, bought a book called The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson, then went to the library and read it. I also checked out another book, even though I’m currently reading several others. This is a little game I like to play with myself–always thinking I’ll read more than I actually will. Anyway, The Dream Giver is written from a Christian perspective and–in part–is told as a parable. Specifically, it’s about a guy named Ordinary who is a Nobody but wants to be a Somebody and see his Big Dream come true. What I loved about the book is that it says we all have dreams we are born with, things we were meant to do or be. It also says that dreams are always outside your comfort zone, there will always be obstacles and challenges, and–at some point–you’ll definitely, most certainly, and without-a-doubt feel like giving up.

Uh, accurate.

Here’s a seemingly random picture of me, my friend Jake, and his girlfriend, Karyn. They both live in Canada, and we had lunch recently when they visited. The reason the picture isn’t random is because Jake is the one who told me about The Dream Giver. (Thanks, Jake.)

Last night on Embarrassing Bodies, person after person sat down with the doctors and said, “I’m so embarrassed by this skin tag on my butt hole,” or, “I’m so embarrassed the skin on my legs has cracked and bled for the last twelve years. I never go to the beach.” Watching the patients, I was filled with compassion. I thought, It’s okay, you’re only human. Along those lines, the doctors were wonderful. In almost every case, they said, “This thing you’re worried about is really common. We see it all the time and we have an answer.” But the line that got me was, “People shouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed because we’re all basically the same.”

Honestly, I think this is often what I’m looking for–the confirmation that I’m “normal” or “not alone.” Just seeing one episode of Embarrassing Bodies has already made me feel better about my body. As for my interior, I love that my therapist said it’s okay to carry around two feelings at once. I don’t have to feel just one way–I don’t have to be any different than I am in this moment. Talk about a relief. And in terms of my dreams, it’s good to read about other dreamers, dreamers who have gone before me. Once again, they say, “You’re okay.” Sure, there will be days when you want to throw in the towel, quit writing, eat pizza, and watch The Voice. That’s normal. There will even be days when you think moving back home–or whatever–is a setback. Don’t worry. It’s really just an opportunity to rest and find out who you are and what you’re made of before the journey really picks up.