Fucking Cheers!
Yesterday, We Celebrated.
And holy shit, did we celebrate.
Yesterday, we celebrated.
Like, really fucking celebrated.
Not the polite, obligatory kind of celebration where someone raises a glass, offers a congratulations, and everyone goes about their day.
No. We celebrated the hell out of this.
From the moment I woke up until the very end of the night, my husband made it his personal mission to remind me of something I still haven’t quite wrapped my head around.
I’m a published author.
There were plants (because flowers are lovely, but plants stick around). There was exceptionally good coffee. There were extra hugs, kisses, and those little moments with my family that somehow manage to mean more than the grand gestures.
And there was pride.
So much fucking pride.
Not the arrogant kind. Not the kind that demands recognition or applause. The kind that settles somewhere deep in your chest when you realize you’ve done something you once only dreamed about.
Something that took time.
Something that took courage.
Something that required you to keep going, even when you weren’t entirely convinced you could pull it off.
And then, as if the day hadn’t already been wonderful enough, some of our dearest friends came over.
We ate an entirely unreasonable amount of food, talked about everything and nothing, laughed, and eventually found ourselves sitting around the fire, enjoying the kind of evening you wish you could bottle up and save for later.
It was incredible.
Not because anything particularly extraordinary happened, but because everyone was so genuinely happy.
Everyone was joyous.
Everyone was supportive.
Everyone was fucking PROUD.
Proud of the accomplishment.
Proud of a dream finally becoming something tangible.
Proud of the perseverance it took to get here.
And I think that’s what struck me most.
There is something profoundly moving about being surrounded by people who celebrate your successes as though they are their own. People who have watched you struggle, listened to your doubts, tolerated your occasional spirals, and never once made you feel foolish for wanting something so badly.
People who don’t just show up when you’ve accomplished something, but who were there while you were still trying to figure out how.
I’ve spent so much of my life looking ahead, thinking about the next thing, the next goal, the next version of myself I hope to become.
But yesterday?
Yesterday, I got to just be.
I got to sit in the middle of a life I love, surrounded by people I adore, and appreciate the fact that something I once imagined is now real.
My book exists.
People can read it.
And the people I love most in this world helped me celebrate that fact with every bit of enthusiasm I could have hoped for.
I’m proud of myself. And I’m learning that it’s okay to say that out loud.
But more than anything, I’m grateful.
For my husband, who somehow always finds ways to make me feel like my dreams matter.
For my family, who make every accomplishment sweeter.
For my friends, who show up, cheer loudly, and remind me how ridiculously lucky I am.
A dream came true yesterday.
And I got to celebrate it with my favorite people.
Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.
God, I love my crew.