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Remember when we were young and the word ‘can’t’ was the equivalent to a swear word? My third grade teacher had the quote ‘There is no such thing as can’t’ written on the wall so big it spanned the entire wall. Every time one of us said it, she would catch us and point to it. We were strictly not allowed to say ‘I can’t’ in her classroom.

I sit here, reminiscing on that memory, as a thirty year old in front of a coiled clay snake my cats knocked off my bookshelf and shattered into six pieces and a bottle of super glue crying my eyes out because I realize: I can’t fix it. The same way I can’t solve my mom’s mental health. The same way I can’t fix my ex's alcoholism. The same way I can’t please everyone.

How do you know when enough is enough? I think it’s OK to CAN’T. It’s ok not to fix everything and everyone. It’s not giving up, it’s not an admission of weakness. It’s unlearning an incorrect childhood lesson, and instead learning my own limitations in an attempt to find an inner peace with what I’m actually capable of.

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