Since our youngest moved out and I started this medication, I kept making the same size pot of chili and the same sheet pan of vegetables. For a while I thought I was just bad at cooking for two.
Then on Tuesday I made salmon, roasted carrots, and a small scoop of rice, ate about two-thirds, and put the rest away without the usual mental argument. No drama, no finish-the-plate guilt.
I took a 25-minute walk after, the kind I used to skip because I felt too full. Somewhere in the last few months, enough stopped meaning clean plate and started meaning steady.
Did yours arrive as one clear moment, or did you only notice it looking back?