Confession Time

But don't worry, I promise I'm okay.

Y’all…. I have a confession to make, I haven’t been able to show up here with any authenticity in a long time. There have been fleeting flashes of brilliance, and momentary bursts of inspiration, and of course the treasured words of the beautiful souls whose lives I follow here on Substack. But it’s a different story when it comes to me and how I’m showing up. I first felt the shift when we moved into our new home at the end of the summer. I expected things to change but I truly had no idea just how much my life would be turned upside down. Everything from the rhythms of my family’s daily life, to the demands of running a newer, and bigger household, not to mention all the hidden projects and purchases that come along with moving.

Meanwhile, my kids are navigating their own adjustments, and my mom heart truly wants to burst at the growth that I witness every single day. Now, more than ever, I believe in the astounding resilience of children. Whenever I feel myself getting caught up in the endless ‘to-do’ list, and the external pressures of a society (where apparently nobody sleeps but their laundry is always put away), I make sure to stop and observe my children. The giggles, the curiosity, the questions, the innate oscillation between intensity and sheer joy at any given moment. Why can’t I be more like them? When did I start doubting myself?

There’s a small window above my kitchen sink that I like to gaze lazily out of while I’m doing the dishes, or washing pump parts, multiple times a day. I always zone out when performing repetitive, mindless tasks like this one. Some of my best ideas come to me in this spot. Ms. Rachel, and Tristan’s baby babble are the background noise to the slow and steady chugging of my brain. For those few minutes my brain feels alive and fertile, but it doesn’t last. I scramble to capture the ideas as they spark off - I have words jotted on sticky notes around my desk, and random lines of ideas in my phone Notes, but there’s no follow through.

Life lately

Every day I tell myself (and my family) that I’m going to write. I have every intention of opening up my laptop after the baby goes to bed, after the kitchen is tidied, after the lunches are made, after the workout is done, after the shower is had…. after, after, after… but I don’t write. I just think about writing, and envy other writers, and make plans to write in different pockets of my day, all while continuing to settle into the “new normal” of life in the big, brand-new house. One of my best friends, who also happens to be a writer, assures me that not writing is as much a part of writing when it comes to being a writer. I hold onto this idea, and treat it as undeniable truth when self-doubt starts creeping in. Right now it’s all I have, a small, but scrappy life preserver in the tempestuous waters of life.

Perhaps you needed to hear these words too, and if so, please take them and treat them as truth. You deserve to know that what’s in you will never leave you. Writing will be there through every season of your life regardless whether you hit ‘publish’ on Substack, or submit that op-ed to the New York Times, or finally have the guts to sign up for that book proposal workshop. And one day, when you least expect it, you will open your laptop and your fingers will fly over the keys so fast that you won’t have time to doubt yourself anymore. You will start believing in yourself again ♡

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