Finishing a hot cup of tea counts.
Small wins that are not small
Recovery is usually measured with the wrong instruments. People look for a big obvious change and miss the actual evidence, which is almost always domestic and slightly absurd.
It is finishing a cup of tea while it is still hot. Eating a meal without working out who is watching. Sleeping through a night without waking up afraid, and only realising afterwards that this was once impossible.
A lot of them are about taking up space again. Wearing a colour he did not like. Going to the cinema alone and buying the big popcorn. Starting a sentence with I want rather than I should. Saying no to something and noticing that the world carried on.
These sound trivial written down, which is precisely why they go uncounted. If you only measure the large things you will conclude that nothing is happening, while quietly getting better in a dozen small ways every week.
What people said
I bought clothes that actually fit instead of clothes I'd fit into eventually.
wonder
I said no to something today. The world didn't end. Noted.
wonder
I went somewhere new today. Nothing happened. But I went.
wonder
I started a sentence with 'I want' instead of 'I should.' That felt revolutionary.
wonder
I ate a whole meal without counting anything. Just ate. Like a person.
wonder
I finished a whole cup of tea while it was still hot. That shouldn't feel like a victory but here we are.
wonder
I parallel parked on the first try today. No witnesses. Devastating.
wonder
I made a cup of tea and drank it while it was still hot. That's a win in this house.
still
Three years ago I couldn't leave the house. Today I drove to the sea.
wonder
I can hear birds again. Not metaphorically. I actually stopped and heard them.
wonder
I went to the cinema alone. Bought the big popcorn. Sat in the middle. Didn't share.
wonder
I wore colour today. Red. I wore red. He hated red.
wonder
I'm starting to recognise my own laugh again. It sounds different than I remembered.
wonder
I slept through the whole night without waking up afraid. I didn't even know that was possible anymore.
wonder
I danced in the kitchen at 7am. No one was watching. That was the whole point.
wonder
The house is mine. The silence is mine. The mess is mine. Everything is mine.
wonder
I'm reading again. I forgot I used to love reading. I forgot I used to love things.
wonder
I caught my reflection and didn't hate what I saw. First time in maybe a decade.
wonder
I bought a plant. It's still alive. We're both still alive. That counts.
wonder
The first meal I cooked just for myself. Not for him. Not for the kids. For me. It tasted like freedom.
wonder
I drove with the windows down today and didn't check the mirror once. That's new.
wonder
Found a grey hair today and laughed. Proof I survived something.
wonder
Three years ago I couldn’t leave the house. Yesterday I booked a holiday. For me. Just me.
wonder
Count these. They are not consolation prizes, they are the actual data.
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