I was going to write a post all about my trip to NYC (which was fantastic by the way) this past weekend, but I woke up this morning and just wasn’t feeling it.
We got in late on Monday, and yesterday I was sick at home. I had a migraine, which lead into my ear being in pain and sinus pain and just PAIN. I am still not feeling very well today, but I don’t want to go another day without blogging. I’ve been itching to blog all weekend (especially since I bought a new case for my iPad which has an AMAZING keyboard which I like typing from), but never got around to it.
But I digress…
Yesterday, as I’m in and out of sleep, lying on the couch I started thinking about what I want out of life and who I want to be. I then start scratching my head like crazy because it’s itching, and before you all freak out no I don’t have lice. A little over two months ago I got extensions put it, and I loved them. My hair was so long and so pretty and I felt awesome. Maintaining them is a bit of a drag, but was worth it to be able to do all this stuff to it (think Katniss’ awesome braids) that with my normal hair I couldn’t. But as I’m sitting there scratching my head I wondered ‘What the heck am I doing?”. Why am I scratching my head like mad just because I have hair that isn’t mine in. Is it worth it? Is this how I want to be defined?
Next thing I know I went and got pliers out of the garage and started un-crimping the beads and then an hour later I have a pile of hair that isn’t mine on my left and I am starting to feel more like myself that I have in a while.
And when I woke up this morning and saw my hair in the mirror I kind of felt like me again. I was almost worried that once I saw my short(er) hair this morning I’d feel less like myself, less “powerful” in some sort of way. I got a lot of compliments on the hair these past months, and I’ll be honest in saying I enjoyed the little attention it got me. The more people talked about them, the more confident in myself I got. But I’ve realized I don’t want my power to come from something that isn’t mine, you know? Who knew that a simple pair of pliers could wield so much inner discussion.
So I think to myself… What is it that I want out of my life? Do I REALLY want to be an author? Do I REALLY want to be an Etsy-er? Do I even REALLY know what I want out of life?
And then it hits me.
I have NO idea what I REALLY want do to with my life.
I’m thirty years old and I still have no clue what I honestly and truly want to make myself out to be. I go through phases where I am ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE I know what I want. Then I doubt myself and start asking more questions… Is it too late to become an author? Is it too late to start building an Etsy business that is profitable? Is it too late to change career paths do something new? And here I am, hesitating to answer any of these questions… I hesitate out of fear of failure and rejection, but that’s most people’s reasons as well.
The reason I mostly hesitate is because my life is no longer just my life. It hasn’t been since that day in September almost 6 years ago. When my daughter was born her life became my life. I can’t quit my job and focus on writing, or on Etsy-ing or change careers on a whim. I have to be able to, along with my Mr., support her and give her the life she deserves. I want so much for her, I want her to have anything and everything. If she’s happy, I’m happy. I think that for right now, that’s the best I can ask for. To make sure that I do what I can to make sure she’s happy.
I think now I’m realizing I still have to do the things I love, so I will keep writing, I will keep Etsy-ing my little butt off, but I don’t know if I can define myself by those things. Not yet. I still don’t know how to define myself really. For now, I guess I’ll just define myself as ME.
Here’s to another day of random rambling…
Happy Wednesday everyone!