I’m in the process of cleaning out my closet and drawers, making donate/keep/sell piles and listing things on Threadflip. I have this urge to get rid of the old and in with the new and well, being mostly unemployed doesn’t allow for many shopping sprees. So I get rid of what I don’t wear(some of it’s painful to let go, some not so much) and I sell them. Pass them along to someone else who will breathe life into a piece. This allows me to release the clutter and only hold onto what I truly wear and truly enjoy.
It’s hard though, isn’t it? To let go of the old. The past. The stuff that holds us back. Can you sense that I’m talking about more than just clothes at this point? We hold onto it all and it fills our heads and closets with things that hide the best of life from us so we have to dig and search for the good stuff. For the joy, for the happy. We waste energy contemplating for the hundredth time if something looks good on us, or if something is the right choice/move for us and really if we have to ask so many times doesn’t it make the answer pretty clear? These are all the things I’m thinking of as I type so if it makes little sense, forgive me. Just the things I think about sometimes.
My mother, the new grandma, holding her grandson.
Last week was one of the most stressful in a very, very long time. For many reasons I won’t list here. But it ended with the birth of a new family member. My sweet new nephew, Griffin Charles was born early Thursday morning. It made the stress of that week melt away the minute I held him. It was such a stark contrast to the first half of the week, one that felt like a years worth of stress was resting on our shoulders and had gathered there in just a matter of days. Then I met this baby boy. And I realized it’s all going to be okay.
Thankfully, this week has been much kinder to us. One thing I realized is that I still need to keep blogging more often. It inspires me and it’s one of my few outlets. I need words. Words help me make sense of things when life gets crazy. I love them, those words. Journaling, songwriting, blogging, conversations. Words make me happy. It’s funny that I stopped blogging as much to release myself from pressure, but I felt more difficulty not blogging than in making sure I blogged regularly. I need to find a happy medium, my sweet spot. I’m looking for it and I’ll find it when I just start sharing my heart and staying true to myself. So with that, I’m signing off for the day. To continue the decluttering and making room for the good stuff.
I know I should keep writing here while I find my way around the natural evolution that happens in blogging. Sometimes when you feel yourself and your words taking on a new direction, well it’s hard to navigate that. It’s like weaning myself away from, well, myself. Sort of. It’s hard to just slowly do it as I continue to write my blog daily.
I’ve been journaling a ton lately, which has been incredible. More song lyrics have been coming to me and I think backing away from the blog a little bit has helped with that. I need to just blog when I feel the words come to me and not blog just to have a post up a certain number of days a week. I know consistency weekly is a “key to blogging success”, but it’s just not working for me. I know I touched on this in the last post a bit, but I have to say that it’s been good for me. I have lots of plans in the works, a little change in direction and hopefully including a whole new look for the blog soon. All very exciting things. I’m excited.
I finally feel like I’m starting to come into my own. To be okay with who I am and not trying to adopt from other people pieces of them. If that makes sense? I’m like a sponge. I soak up little habits of other people that I admire. That’s fine, that’s how we can mold ourselves into who we are, but I was doing that too much, you know? I was not being who I was for fear I would look like a fool or a fraud, so I saw qualities of others I admired and I tried to adopt a few of their traits. Not a huge amount, just little things here and there. But they added up. Funny how I was afraid to feel like a fraud, so I tried to be more like other people. Oh, the irony. I would look at others and think “hey seem to get approval, so if I act like them just a little bit more then I will too!” It’s scary to admit that out loud, but I know there are more of us that do it than admit it. I’ll admit it. I’m finding my way through that, finding my voice among the masses. Realizing more and more that I will not please everyone and that that’s okay. I am not responsible for how people respond to who I am when I’m being myself. I can’t please everybody and will run myself ragged if I try to. I can only be me and as long as I am kind and stay true to myself, then that’s all that matters. That is what is really going to make all the difference in the world.
Sophomore year of high school for me was the best of those four years, but also a difficult one. I mean, turning sixteen is tough. First love, first heartbreak, first loss of a friend. It was a roller coaster of a year. I remember walking out to my mother in our living room, bawling my poor eyes out and trying to get out the words I was feeling, which was hard enough to do at the time. I remember being so sad, SO sad and all I could manage to get out was “I don’t know who I am”. It was a rock-bottom moment for me. Unfortunately, it would continue to take me another 9 years to start to be comfortable with who I was. To start to figure it out finally. To not be afraid to say what I want to say, what I need to say. To not be afraid to look like a fool.
Perhaps it’s appropriate that this is all coming a week before my twenty-sixth birthday. Words can’t describe how excited and ready I am for this next chapter. I’m still getting there and I’m always going to be a work in progress, but it’s about time. It’s really about time.
Adam was in DC all week and now I have him home! All to myself! Poor guy finally arrived home around 7:30 last night after an eleven-hour travel day. I could only do one thing. I mean, there was really only one thing to do. Why, make a pit stop on the way home for Velveeta and hot dogs, of course. I gave Adam the option of Chick-Fil-A or shells, cheese and hotdog goodness. He chose the latter and I happily obliged. I mean, the man spent the whole entire day traveling and has to go back to work early tomorrow morning, the least I could do was cook up some technicolor yellow shells and hot dogs. I mean it was the lower-fat Velveeta shells and turkey hot dogs so that makes up for it, right? It was a comfort food kind of night. And now he’s back home and that’s the most comforting thing of all. Hooray!