I'm writing this on the eve of my birthday. When it's posted, it will be my actual birthday. Thirty-six. A presumable third of my life has been completed and I find myself needing more. I keep trying to be my most authentic self and yet I post this blog with only a few readers and even fewer people in real life who even know it exists. I keep asking myself why that is. Why would I hide this massive project that I am pretty proud of?
I taught myself how to build this site from the ground up. OK, OK. Weebly helped with their fantastic drag and drop system, but I think you know what I mean. No one showed me what to do or how to do it, I just went and figured it out. I am smart and capable and confident…when no one knows what I'm doing.
It's something that's hard to pinpoint. I'm working on getting to the truest me and part of that person is a writer. I may not be incredibly skilled at it, but I can feel it in my bones. See! Even that last sentence. Somewhere along the line I told myself I wasn't good enough. I told myself that the thing I want to do most in the world isn't a viable career path. Don't get me wrong. This isn't a situation where I am regretting the path not taken. This is a time in which I am trying to figure out which path to take.
Do I sit here and write for you (me)? Do I quit my job and focus all my energy on writing and podcasting? While some people daydream about travelling the world, I daydream about packing some gear, my car, and my little dog; and hoofing it around the country. Cash out the 401K and just go experience the world. But how can I do that when there are so many bills to pay? Logic steps in and tells me I can't just quit my job, that I have to have a backup. My creative side says to buy a tiny house and plop it on a plot of land and leave everyone else behind.
I've avoided the original question already. Why shouldn't I announce to my circle of friends and family that I have this thing that I've created. Part of it is because of plain old fear. Fear that people will hate it. Fear that people will disapprove. Most of all, fear that people just won't care. This is that I have built and am building is an extension of me. If it gets ignored, well then it'll feel like real life I guess. I've struggled with feelings of inadequacy pretty much all of my life. I think that comes from a youth spent trying to break free of a mold that was set out for me but possessing an inadequate vocabulary to explain why I needed to oust myself from the "norm".
I do this every year on my birthday, which I always spend alone for reasons I can't get into. Well, I can…but I won't. I started to resent this day because I'm unable to celebrate in the fashion that I want. This makes me sad and cranky and wanting to avoid the whole thing altogether. I'm trying not to be that way this year. I'm trying to break free from the mold that I created this time. I have no idea how far out I'll make it. But I surely have to try.
Thirty-six. Where did the time go?
Happy Birthday to Me.
Random historical events that occurred today!