I’m lucky
I hate the word luck.
And every time I hear the sentence ‘you’re so lucky’, I get a bit angry. No one is lucky to be at the top. Success comes from continuous and consistent hard work. Luck has nothing to do with it.
But the more I think about it, the more I realise that I only hate the word luck when it comes to personal or professional success. Because where luck does play a big part is in the things you can’t control: the time you’re born, the country you’re born in, the family you’re born in to.
You have no influence on these outcomes. They’re decided for you by others.
I’m lucky. I was born to two incredible parents, who had a big and caring family around them, in a town which has made me who I am today.
I’m lucky.
And I don’t say that to brag, it’s nothing to brag about. I’m the result of favourable conditions.
But I say it because, sometimes, I need reminding of how lucky I am. I think we all do.
I have friends who grew up without one of their parents. I have friends who didn’t know their grandparents. I have friends who rarely see their siblings.
I’m lucky.
My Mum text me back in August asking if I’d missed a day of blogging since I hadn’t shared the post on Facebook. I replied saying I had written, but that I was so unhappy with what I’d written, I’d decided not to share it. That week had been a frustrating one overall so far, I told her.
But then my Mum sent me this:
And, all of a sudden, I felt okay. The pressure lifted, the frustration disappeared, and I was okay.
It’s not the first time my Mum has picked me up, but those words of kindness are usually over the phone. This time, I had something tangible, something I’m able to re-read whenever my mood is in the gutter.
Ever since that text, it’s pushed my appreciation for what I have — everything I have — to a whole other level.
I’m lucky.
