My insatiable desire to redecorate balanced with a stay at home motherhood budget leads me to thrift stores where mixed in with old prints and frames I find serenity prayers, zillions of which I can only sadly assume previous owners fell off the wagon. They are modge podged onto dark wood with a beer tab hot glued onto the back for the fastner. Some have pictures of seagulls and others have lighthouses affixed. All start out with the plea that God grants them acceptance.
Apply that into my practical life: I need to accept that I (in my best popeye voice) "yam what's I yam" which includes a lady that chocolate macadamia nut clusters from costco are my version of crack. I made mistakes yesterday last week and all of the years preceeding. I did the best I could with the circumstances, knowledge and resources that were at my disposal. I don't Love to run, I bounce where I don't want to feel bouncing, I sweat, I hurt and I do not nor am ever planning to experience a runners high. Running is not as fun as eating. Watching a movie is more fun than walking up a hill.
Accepting gets you ready to move on and make changes. It says "I was what I was" and I did the best I could at the time with the information and strength I had. It takes into account that you always change and learn and that we always grow. Not accepting your past brings anger, self pity, and continued fattness. Acepting brings peace, and the ability to change.