It never fails to come crashing in, sweeping me under and out to sea, a little fish carried away with the current. ___________________________________________________________________________

“Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim.”
— Dory, Finding Nemo
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Sometimes, it looks more like drowning than swimming, and the best I can do is simply keep my head above the water.

I ran into an old friend recently. We’re both moms now, with families and responsibilities and careers that demand an ever-present attention to detail. Even back in high school, working on the yearbook, we were the perfectionists, the fact-checkers, the knit-pickers — the ones who stayed late and had nightmares that we’d overlooked a mistake that would live forever in infamy, permanently inked for all to see on the pages of Statesboro High’s Criterion.

That was more than 20 years ago — and those same kinds of nightmares still come in my sleep.

As a writer and an editor, I take great pride in my work. I approach every assignment with the same painstaking attention to detail I poured into that yearbook back in 2003, and I take it personally when I get something wrong. A pounding heart, sick stomach, tense jaw, shallow breaths — my entire body reacts viscerally to the realization of a deep-seated fear of failure.

In this profession, mistakes never die. They don’t just evaporate into the stratosphere; they remain on a page or on a screen, in black and white forevermore, tangible, hieroglyphic evidence of my human condition, eternally on display for the world to see.

They’re also inevitable. Regardless of how hard I work to avoid them, the hours spent hunting them down, eager to eradicate them with the red pen of death, a mistake is bound to fall through the cracks eventually.

That’s especially true when the tide is pulling you under, with opportunities to mess up swirling in from all directions. Deadlines prioritized over dinners with family; a work email sent, but not a text to a friend; time spent scrolling on my phone instead of reading my Bible.

I neglect. I forget. I avoid. My priorities shift, and my tank empties.

I told my friend that while I’m technically managing to keep the balls in the air, they’re all hovering just above ground. It feels like I’m doing an average job at most things — work, marriage, parenting, self-care — but none of them especially well.

“Don’t we all feel like that?” she asked.

Maybe not. But if you do, I hope you know you’re not alone. It’s OK not to be great at everything. It’s OK to say “no” to the things (and the people) that take much more than they give, and to prioritize purpose over perfection.

It’s OK to ask for help when you’re drifting out to sea.

In fact, it is in these crazy, demanding seasons that I’m acutely aware of how badly I need and deeply I love the people in my life, how much I rely on them to carry the weight — and throw me a raft — when I start going under.

There have been so many nights when dinner wouldn’t have gotten cooked if my husband hadn’t stepped up — but he did. My daughter wouldn’t have made it to soccer or pottery or playdates each week if my parents hadn’t offered to take her — but they did. And I can say with absolute certainty that without every single one of the members of our Discovering Bulloch team, this magazine would’ve never made it to press — but by golly, it did, and what an issue it is!

This one's dedicated entirely to shining a spotlight on this year’s Readers’ Choice award winners. We put the power in your hands to nominate and choose your favorites across nearly 190 categories — from beauty and bagels to banks and barbershops — and with more than 2,100 voters and nearly 36,000 votes, you didn't let us down. Inside, you’ll find the full results, along with stories on a handful of standouts chosen by you, our readers, as the best of the best in Bulloch County.

An honest-to-goodness labor of love, you're holding our largest issue of the year. If you happen to spot a mistake, I hope you’ll view it through a lens of humanity, knowing every page was created with care, each word rooted in our genuine love for this community.

It’s that kind of grace that has the power to help keep others afloat.