Small Wins & Smiles
Not every win comes with confetti. Some come with laundry folded on the same day it was washed. Some show up as that rare moment when you remember what you walked into the room for.
This page is my little trophy shelf for the moments that don’t make headlines — but totally should. The small wins. The soft smiles. The victories that feel like poetry with a plot twist.
Whether it’s surviving Monday without Googling “how to fake your own disappearance”, or simply choosing tea over existential despair — it all counts.
Because let’s be honest: life’s a mix of “what even is this?” and “hey, I did that!”
And this is where I celebrate the latter. With love. With laughter. And with just enough sarcasm to keep it real.
🌈
Domestic Goddess (Kinda)
There are goddesses who part seas and summon lightning. And then there’s me — slayer of laundry piles, tamer of the dishwasher, and proud conqueror of That One Drawer™ where mystery Tupperware goes to die.
And just the other day, I performed a seasonal miracle:
Swapped out all my winter boots for summer shoes in under an hour — while racing the clock, prepping lunch for my son, ironing clothes, and changing the beds before heading to work. Somewhere between the boots and the bedsheets, I swear I turned into Flash (but with better shoes).
By the time I got to work, I realized something important:
I work way harder at home than I do at my actual job — and guess what? Home doesn’t even pay me in coffee breaks.Domestic bliss? Not quite. Domestic victory? Absolutely. I’ll take my trophy in iced tea and uninterrupted silence, thanks.
🏆
Emotional Gymnastics
Some days you do deep breathing. Other days you do deep sighing while eating chips in your bathrobe and pretending you’re in a perfume commercial.
But let’s give credit where it’s due — emotional acrobatics are real, and I’ve been flipping.
– I answered a message without rereading it 6 times.
– I said no to something I didn’t want to do (and didn’t spiral into guilt… much).
– I allowed myself to feel grumpy without apologizing for existing. Growth? Possibly. Witchcraft? Likely.Honestly, some of my greatest wins are invisible — like not taking things personally, walking away from chaos, or just letting a tear roll down without narrating it like a tragic movie scene.
Emotional balance? Maybe not. But I stuck the landing — and I did it with sarcasm, tea, and an aggressively soft blanket.
🧘
Beauty in the Bare Minimum
Let’s hear it for the days when the win is simply existing without combusting.
I don’t brush my hair — my curls have made it clear that’s not part of our relationship. I simply wake up, assess the situation, and blame the pillow. It’s an understanding we have.
Most mornings, I slap on some makeup not to glow, but to gently lie about how tired I’ve been for roughly a decade. The real lifeline? Lipstick. Bold, unapologetic, and absolutely non-negotiable. I may not know what I’m doing, but if my lips are dressed — I’m ready for life’s nonsense.
Some days, self-care looks like skincare. Other days, it’s just hydrating and not rage-texting the universe.
There’s real beauty in the bare minimum — because even when I feel like a semi-charged phone running on a protein milkshake and chaos, I still show up.
And honestly? That deserves applause. Or at least a snack.
💄
Nature, Tea, and Getting Out of Bed
Some mornings, I rise with grace and intention. Other mornings… well, they’re not even mornings — I just wake up in the middle of the night, before the chickens, before the sun, before logic. Shift life is glamorous like that.
But I get up. That’s the win.
I shuffle into the light (if it exists), make tea like it’s a spell I’m casting to stay human, and try to be gentle with the grumpy creature I become at 4:17 a.m.
And then — some weeks — I get lucky. I wake up with the world, not before it. And on those golden mornings, I savor the quiet awake. The kind where the house is still sleeping, the sky is politely glowing, and I can sit with a cup of tea… or a cold glass of orange juice (a joy I’m oddly obsessed with).
In those moments, I don’t just wake up — I arrive.
Nature doesn’t ask me to be productive. She just invites me to exist. And that’s more than enough.
🍵
In Praise of the Almost-Epics
These aren’t the moments people write songs about.
No standing ovations. No life-changing plot twists.
Just a lot of little “I did it”s quietly stacking up to remind me: I’m still here, still trying, still laughing at the chaos of it all.
Small wins may not be loud, but they’re loyal.
They show up when nothing else makes sense.
When the world feels too much. When I’m running on caffeine and hope.
They whisper, “Hey, that was something. You did good.”
So this is for the brushed teeth, the texts sent, the feelings felt, the clothes folded, the lipstick applied, and the days survived.
May we never forget: it all counts. Especially the parts that don’t look impressive but feel like a revolution.
🌟