I like me.

Not in a “finally found self-love” caption kind of way. I mean I actually like the woman I’ve grown into. The way she moves through her days. The way she loves people. The way her nervous system, most of the time, feels relatively calm instead of constantly bracing for the next thing.

I think I’m done “becoming”.

For so long I operated like there was a better version of me just out of reach, and my job was to keep striving toward her. Constantly updating. Constantly rising to the occasion. I never felt ready. There was always something more I should be doing, achieving, fixing, in order to be the woman I was “supposed” to be.

I always thought that if I just kept striving toward that goal-version of myself, I’d find my happiness waiting at the end of the journey. I was wrong. Without realizing it, I delayed so much of my joy in pursuit of that arrival. The truth is, you never arrive at a definitive version of yourself, not until you die. So I stopped chasing arrival altogether. I’ve stopped making growth the goal of my life. I’m letting myself expand naturally, as life allows, instead of forcing it.

For a long time my peace was tied to an ever-moving goal post. It’s not enough to get the promotion, you need another one. It’s not enough to get one degree, you need another. I was planning for a life while barely living the one I was already in. I lost time. I lost memories. I sacrificed a lot of my health in the process of becoming. I’m thankful for most of the lessons, but I don’t want to live that way anymore. I want to know how to relax. I want to know how to live in the moment. And I deserve that peace without earning it through more working, more becoming.

I’m not entirely sure what shifted my mindset. Maybe it was motherhood, and the realization that my daughter is going to learn what womanhood looks like from watching me. I don’t want her ever thinking she isn’t enough, that her achievements are all that define her. Or maybe it’s just age. I’m officially in my 30s now, and there’s a confidence here I didn’t have in my 20s. The kind you can’t shortcut your way into. You just have to live long enough to earn it.

What that actually looks like now: I seek counsel when I need it. I’m learning to sit still. I reflect on my life, and the many blessings inside it, more often than I used to. I’m comfortable with silence. I’m comfortable being misunderstood.

I used to feel like I had to earn rest. Like I could only sit down once the entire house was clean. Only relax if my to-do list was done. Only have peace if I accomplished everything I set my mind to, no matter if those goals were long or short-term. My peace, joy, rest, relaxation, and happiness had to be earned. They could only come once all the hard work was done. But what no one tells you is that there’s always more work to be done. You’ll quickly reach a point where you haven’t rested in God knows how long, and you’re spent. Or, as we millennials like to say, “experiencing burnout.”

I’ve spent countless hours talking to my therapist about that, unpacking my “why.” Most days, I don’t feel that way anymore. And even on the days those thoughts rear their ugly head, I know intrinsically that I don’t have to earn my rest. I can take it because I need it. I can take it because I want to. That realization has brought me so much peace. Even on the days I don’t know how to relax, I know I don’t have to earn rest through working to “become.”

That’s part of what I want my daughter to know too, and it’s a lesson I can only teach her through living intentionally. I want her to know me as a woman who chose her peace. A woman who never delays joy and appreciates all the little moments that make a great life. I want her to know me in my contentment. And I don’t want her growing up thinking she has to constantly be “doing” something to be worthy of rest, or of relaxation, or of just being. I want her to see a mother who rests without guilt, so she never has to unlearn that the way I did.

I want to be clear though, I know I’m not done growing. That’s the whole point of staying alive, there’s always more to learn, more to expand into. But for the first time in a long time, I’m not chasing a future version of myself to feel okay with the current one.

I’m already me. And that’s enough.