Letting Go

I had a plan. It wasn’t a "conquer the world" plan, but still a plan. The girls started Mother’s Day Out, and I thought I might have just a little more time to write, to create, to grow this next chapter of my life into something new and exciting. But here we are, just weeks in, and my little princesses decided that school isn’t quite right for them. So I find myself back in the full-time rhythm of caring for our sweet granddaughters — their giggles, their hugs, their sparkling smiles filling my days once again. They’ve reminded me that sometimes life isn’t about the plans we make but how we embrace the shifts in life ~ providing an opportunity to express flexibility.

I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a tug-of-war inside me. I spent years climbing, striving, and succeeding in a world that prized polish and performance. Real estate wasn’t just a career; it was an identity. There’s a certain glamour in walking into million-dollar homes, staging them to perfection, closing deals and all of it being splashed on social media. I was a businesswoman, a leader, someone who “made it.” And I wore that title proudly. Now, I’m “Mimi.” At home. With toddlers.

My calendar no longer holds client meetings or executive luncheons but story times and playground adventures. And if I’m honest, some days it feels like a loss of identity, of a version of myself I worked so hard to create. Yet when I slow down, when I let go of the comparison between then and now, I see something much deeper blooming in this season, for I know all too well how fast this time will go by and in no time our sweet girls will be off to school. And what looks like stepping down is really stepping into true legacy. These ordinary days are the ones that will matter most to my family. These are the days where I get to make a genuine life changing impact not by contract negotiations or professional accolades, but by showing up fully present, fully available, fully me. The girls won’t remember whether I had a high-powered title. But they will remember that I was there — holding their hands, baking cookies, teaching them that even ordinary Tuesdays can carry magic.

So here I am, a proud “preschool dropout" grandma, juggling my creative work in the margins of my days. Sometimes that looks like writing late at night with a cup of tea on a crisp fall day. Sometimes it looks like sneaking in a moment of video editing while the girls nap. It may not be glamorous, but it's the kind of life that fills the soul, where the truest beauty lives.

Maybe that’s the point. Letting go of what was or could be and fully embracing what is - the right now.

With grace in the everyday,

Bel
Everyday Querencia