finding belonging as an introvert

Today I have another special guest in Sluiter Nation.

A new Sluiter Nation Recruit.

Today I bring you Galit from These Little Waves.

I am so excited and honored to have her here today.  Her writing has been blowing me away for over a year since our paths crossed over at The Red Dress Club (Now Write on Edge).

Each of her words is chosen with precision and care.

Reading her words feels like taking a peek at her heart.  Her soul.

Galit is the real deal and I am so happy to share her with you.


My bare feet pad along aged carpet.

Brody is curled into his covers, his room is already darkened. His blond hair is shocking amidst a sea of blues – blankets and pillows and lovies in every possible shade – sky, cornflower, navy.

I pull him close, and we puzzle piece, his head against my chest. “Sweet dreams, buddy.” I whisper. He smiles back. His eyes bright, but ready for nap time.

He has to be.

Because as the sun reaches its high, I reach my low.

So I turn off the phones and take off my contacts and change into pajamas and close the curtains and flick the lights and turn off anything else than can be turned off because this is exactly what I need to be: Off.

And yes, this is because I’ve mothered since morning’s first light. I’ve driven and cleaned and played and organized and fed and snacked and read and nagged and I’m so, so very tired.

But this is also (mostly) because I’m an introvert.

And after I’ve been on – soaking in laughter and fun and learning and stories – I need to turn everything (and everyone) off, in order to refill.

So I do.


Did I just admit that I nap everysingleday?

I did. I do.

And I’m not even going to apologize for it.

Here’s why.

Because knowing how you work and living unapologetically is a gift.

Doesn’t it sound breath-takingly amazing to not apologize for your loud voice or the way you interrupt or the fact that you nap everysingleday?

This is the first pad down that long hallway towards you – learning what makes you tick, and doing just that.

And once you’ve arrived there, comes the second part. And I should tell you that this, too, is hard work.

Once you know what keeps you happy and sane and whole, and you choose to do these things, you have to be okay with the consequences and outcomes of your choices.

(I should say, because I believe this to my core, that knowing yourself and living unapologetically as you doesn’t mean staying comfortable without change.

Your absolute best is just outside your comfort zone.

So you should go to that conference and attend that event and introduce yourself to your new best friend.

But first, you need to know your zone, what fills you up, and what empties you.

Because once known, these will become tools for owning your stretches rather than opportunities to beat yourself up for not being louder or faster or more social – or anything really, other than you.)

Together, the two sides of this gem, shine a bright light on belonging. One that I want to pass from my own weathered hands into my children’s softened ones.

Because I want to sweeten their path, of course I do. And a sense of belonging is, if nothing else, sweet.

But first, there’s this gem.

And with it, will come gratefulness for who they are and what they have.

And that sense of belonging? Will be theirs, from the inside out, right where it’s always been.


Thank you, Galit, for sharing your words here.

Read more of Galit’s words at These Little Waves.  Follow her on twitter and on facebook.