Expectations

I had big plans yesterday. My first real day out since surgery. Farmers market with Emma, then the pottery studio, then dinner. I was excited. I let myself expect it to feel good.

But it was hard. I was scared to use the Pink Menace scooter for the first time. I worried my foot would swell. I tried to rest between everything, but the day still felt heavy. By the time we were driving to dinner, I had a panic attack.

I keep telling myself I should be grateful I got out at all.

And I am.

But I’m also disappointed. Not in the day, but in the expectations I built around it. I wanted it to feel easy. I wanted it to feel like progress.

Instead, it reminded me that healing is slow and my body isn’t ready for everything I want. Expectations make it easy to get your hopes up. I’m learning to hold them gently.