"Where do you plot yourself on the scale with how life is going right now?" My mother asked.

"In what aspect?" I question her.

"Life in general. How do you rate yourself when it comes to how you're handling life as it plays out?" She explained.

"I'd rate myself as a 7 currently," I realized.

"A 7?... What do you plan on doing to raise that number?" She pressed.

"Frankly, I'm proud and emotional for being able to say that I am finally at a 7. I have allowed life to play out to this point. I have gone through the highs and lows necessary. No, I'm not content with remaining a seven. However, I have no specific plans to increase my rate. I know what's healthy and what's toxic to me. I am growing. I will continue to get better. I am comfortable in having no distinct plan for once," I elaborated.

I am realizing that not every day needs to be about getting noticeably better. Some days are meant to simply celebrate the growth I have endured and strength I have obtained. If I don't take time to pause and reflect, just float, then I will burn out. I need to remain proud of myself. I need to take pauses to realize that every attempt to get better has brought me to this point. I cannot lose the value in small steps. I must remain thankful for all of the people that have entered and been a part of my life through good and bad. I must remind myself that there is power in humility. Yes, heroes are invincible when they appear to never struggle and just go out every day to make a difference in the world. However, I have always found it equally or more invincible to witness a hero that makes a difference in others' lives every day when they struggle themselves. I can barely get out of bed some days, but when I have throughout-provoking conversations with someone in need, I can't help but rejoice having gotten out of bed.

Further, I have been trained to reframe my thought patterns. So when I am having an "off" day or feel as if I have made little progress or the pain is too much to even look past, I reframe my thoughts. I remind myself that although I may not always feel the greatest, I am better. The pain was once unbearable. I have grown so much stronger. I have so much more knowledge and strength to put to use. Rather than dwelling in the pain, I now have many more opportunities to take up. To keep shocking myself with astonishment over my progress, that means I have to get up on the days I just want to sleep. I have to eat when I don't have a trace of an appetite. I have to make use of myself when I am anxious or feel like only a consumption of space. I have to talk because remaining silent has gotten me nowhere good. I have spoken, and in doing so, I have gotten better.

There is so much comfort in the word "better".

"Better" looks different for everyone.

"Better" is temporary, while "best" is fixed.

I am "better" because I am not "best"; I am continuously progressing.

Now that's something to celebrate.