Exactly one week ago, I thought my world had collapsed. I made a discovery that blew the roof off the mausoleum where I thought I had laid my trust issues to rest. There they were, alive and well, dancing before me and taunting me with the prospect that I would never be good enough to land the kind of life that I dream of. The secure, happy kind where home is the safest place you can know. It was a shitty way to start the week, but sometimes bad things are good.
Now, I’m looking out at my garden and the sun is shining on a perfect spring day. Fresh air and breathing space have changed my perspective enough to realize that I don’t have to run for the hills. I can stay in this and see how it plays out. I’ve never really been good at that sticking around stuff. It’s amazing what having kids will do. And therapy. We can’t forget to respect those years of therapy.
Even the people you choose to honor with your trust make mistakes. It’s inevitable that these mistakes will hurt you the most, and sometimes these mistakes feel pretty fucking personal. This doesn’t mean your people don’t love you, or can’t love you the way you need to be loved. In my case, I’m not sure what it means yet. What I did realize, drifting through this latest storm, was that I just had to make sure I was safe. I can’t control other people, but I can control me. I can make myself secure. Nobody else should be tasked with that. That’s just asking for trouble.Even the people you choose to honor with your trust make mistakes. Click To Tweet
So now, mama needs to get paid. My time has to be spent making money, first and foremost. It’s no coincidence that all of this personal stuff happened at a “what am I doing with my life” kind of moment. I hadn’t been blogging here because I was feeling discouraged about this blog, about my book, about writing in general. I took a lot of other stuff on, half of which wasn’t paying me any more money than my writing has (which is basically nothing). Writing can happen in the spaces left after the bills are paid. Isn’t that what writers do anyway? If I want this writer’s life bad enough, I will make it happen.
And so Universe, I’ve taken my power back. I’m open to new opportunity, especially the money-generating kind. I want to be self-sufficient and I want to earn the money I’m worth. Money is such a big, crazy energy, and I’m making all kinds of peace with it. Every time I take it for granted, or ignore it, that money energy bites me in the ass.
Don’t we all need to talk about this money stuff more? With each other? With our kids? Why is it so private? Why are we so ashamed when we ‘get it wrong’? Aren’t most of us getting it wrong, most of the time? It’s exhausting, isn’t it?
I have money shit. I’m owning it. If you have money shit, I won’t judge you. If you want to talk about it, I’m listening. Empower yourself, even if you aren’t in it alone. Learn everything you can. Get good advice. Follow it. Rely on yourself to clean up the money shit, because nobody else will do it for you.
Last week I thought I’d have to start over. This week, I’m staying and I’m taking a new and proactive approach to MY life. Sometimes bad things are good.