Bread, Wine & Glow-Ups

You know that kind of friend who just gets you? Who doesn't need to check in every day to still be completely in sync with your soul? That's our own WildHER Wisdom Shelley for me. She's my meme bestie — the person I send the most memes to and receive the most from. We can go a week without talking, but one perfectly timed meme from her can have me laughing out loud or feeling seen in a way that no text thread ever could. That's my kind of friend.

The other day, I sent her one that said:

"My body is a temple."

"Mine's a Catholic church — filled with bread, wine, and guilt."

I laughed. She laughed.

And then I paused because — wow — it hit me how true that felt. If you haven't guessed, I was raised in the Catholic church.

I've been stuck in that version of me for longer than I care to admit. Filling my life with business, skipping care in the name of productivity, and numbing out with food instead of tuning in. Treating my body horribly. I've put my own needs on the back burner while pouring myself into work, responsibilities, and other people's expectations. It's been easy to feel guilty, to eat the bread, to pour the wine (okay, it's more like scoop the ice cream), and forget that I deserve something more.

And then there's Shelley.

She's up at 5 a.m. — not just working out, but reading, meditating, and centering herself before the world even knows what's happening. She sets boundaries like a boss. She works harder than anyone I know, but not at the expense of herself. She's found the balance I used to think was mythical. She glows from the inside out. She's done the work and continues to do so. It's inspiring and also pretty fucking cool.

And when she says, "You've been in a glow-up season," I know it's not just a compliment. It's a call-in.

Because she's right — I have been working so hard on myself. On healing. On learning what fuels me and what drains me. On figuring out that self-worth isn't earned through overworking or shrinking myself. That rest is radical. That joy is necessary. That I can be both powerful and soft. That my body is my vessel, and treating it with kindness is something I deserve. That showing respect to myself isn't selfish.

But learning is only the beginning.

Now it's time to activate.

To keep choosing myself.

To set the alarm and protect my peace.

To laugh at the memes and nourish the temple.

To continue my glow-up and put in the work to my temple — not for vanity, but for vitality.

Because if the body is a temple, mine deserves more than guilt and carbs (though I'll always save room for both).

Here's to bread.

Here's to glow-ups.

Here's to meme besties who remind us who we really are — one hilarious swipe at a time.