American Comparing

It’s been awhile since I posted something. I just received a new job and my time is focused on making good impressions. I want to have a better life for my daughter. Give her all that she needs. As a single mother the household is only me. I feel like I can’t give her what she needs compared to everyone else. They live in a nice house; have nice cars, their children involved in several activities. I don’t live in the ghetto, my car is a 2007 Dodge, the money I put in daycare pays for an upscale one bedroom apartment. It’s not bad; what I have is not bad at all. Compared to those who are struggling I’m doing fine.

Why am I struggling with this?

In Syria women are sleeping on the floor holding their children with a hole in their roof. People are fighting their right to sleep in comfort, to be able to walk across the street without being shot. Maybe the definition of a blessed day is not hearing a shot at all. As I drop off my daughter in a beautiful daycare facility I need to remind myself that I have more than enough. I can’t compare myself to the “perfect dream,” I will never be happy. I need to be happy. That is something we are all trying to be.