September is my so-called emotional month when I have hit the lowest and brightest moments of my life.
The month I lost my most inspirational man. The one who taught me that being kind and loveful to everyone who deserves it is always right. The man who taught me there is no shame about being honest and expressing genuine feelings, even if this means showing your weakness. Being authentic will always pay off in the end.
But it was also the month I learned I was about to become the dad of the most wonderful baby I have ever seen. Since that day, I started relating to all those stupid parenting quotes.
It is the month my beloved summer fades away, leaving behind a dull colour palette that, besides its romantic mood, keeps reminding me that winter is at the door.
It is the month I have the most fun organising and participating in the year’s best races and events.
The month I feel invincible and fragile at the same time, excited and scared, anxious and mindful.
Some would call it being bipolar; I call it being myself.