If there’s one thing that was instilled in me from early childhood, it’s been a healthy dose of Catholic guilt. Throughout the years, I’ve consistently apologized for everything. Things I’ve done. Things I haven’t done. Things I’ve said. Things people have thought I said. Things people have thought about me. All the things. All the time. It’s exhausting.

This week has been particularly difficult and enlightening. Some people don’t like me or agree with some things that I do. And this week, that dislike has been alarmingly clear and vocalized. The things they disagree with are things that I can’t help or change. To say it’s been frustrating and disheartening is an understatement.

However, a theme in my life has emerged – I apologize way TOO.DAMN.MUCH. for things that make me happy.

I like to dance with my dogs to loud music in the kitchen while I cook.

I use too many exclamation points in everything I write!!!

I’m goofy to the point of ridiculous.

When my dogs are happy, I am happy. And I’ll do almost anything to make them happy.

Toby jumps when he’s excited. I love that he gets excited when he sees me and allow him to jump.

And guess what? I’m happy. Or at least I’m trying to be. Somewhere along the line – whether it was moving to Alabama, or being sick for a year, or a combination of the two – I lost my daily spunky smile. But I’m working every single day to get it back and live a genuinely happy, grateful life.

I’ll be damned if I let someone bring down my happiness. I’m in control of my happy. And I’m not apologizing for being happy anymore!