There is a spark. Not a flame. Not a fire. But a spark.
A bit of something that says… “yes you can”
A bit of something that drives me to move. To walk on my break. To do my ab workout in full view of my mother in law and children.
A bit of warmth that tells me I’m moving forward and finding myself again.
I bit of something, a bit of spark that says… I can do this.
I WILL do this.
One. Baby step. At a time.