A funny thing happens when you stop living for everyone else and quiet your mind. When you ask yourself what really matters, what really makes your heart soar and at the same time ache. When you question if you're really happy or just kind of comfortable.
I lost my way. I stop being inspired. I couldn't write. I became uninterested in my craft. I lied to myself. I tricked myself into believing I was happy. Because I didn't allow myself the free time to even doubt that so called life for even a millisecond. If I saw an empty square on my calendar, I almost panicked. What would I do with my free time?
My work became my sole purpose in life. And that my friends, is a dangerous thing. Because like anything, the popularity rises and falls. A new 20 something comes in with bigger dreams, brighter eyes, a bushier tail and better talent. And just as you're riding the crest of success, it can feel that it's all crashing down on you and you're grasping through that swelling wave to catch your breath.
Sometimes, you just have to get away for awhile, alone. To question everything. To answer nothing. To cry your eyes out and not have anyone console you. To jump on your hotel room bed and mess up the perfectly made bed. To order overpriced room service and drown in a bottle of wine. When even in the depths of your soul, you're not sure what's wrong, sometimes it feels good to take off the tightly adorned mask, and just let all the monkeys roll the fuck off your back.
"You're grey alright", I had a friend of a friend say to me in a discussion about personalities. "She's push and pull", the longtime male friend said to the handful of people in our presence.
Definition:
Push-Pull - A chronic pattern of sabotaging and re-establishing closeness in a relationship without appropriate cause or reason.
So I proceeded to delve into what that exactly meant. And why I'm so 50 shades of fucked up.
And their answer astonished me:
Stop thinking there's something wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with you.
And just like that, I questioned 38 years of my life....could it be in fact that there truly isn't anything tangibly wrong with me? That I constantly analyze every situation so deeply that I ruin living in the moment? That I thrive on drama and pain? That I so badly yearn for an extraordinary life and that automatically has to equate to strife and suffering?
I don't know what it all means. But I'm in an honest place right now. I may not be what everyone wants at any given time. That part of me has changed. And I won't apologize for that. But I do know that I'm on a journey to the best chapter of my life. I am here on this Earth to accomplish astounding things. And I hope, even if I cut my hair, swear too much, answer your email a little less quick than breakneck speed or write more honestly, that you'll still love me for what I have to offer.
People change. Things fall apart. Shit happens. But the world keeps going round and round.
Growth and comfort do not co-exist. And things are about to get really uncomfortable. In a really epic way. And not in a way that creates whispers or stories or assumptions. Not in a way you'll even notice. It's a shift of sort, internally. I hope you'll join me on this journey of mine. And in return, I can promise to offer you, a totally better version of myself. With an occasional fuck-up, I'm sure.
Love always,
Wendy
xo
