Monday, December 12, 2016

A new realization for an (almost) new year...

Let me get this out there.  I'm a self-aware person.  Too self-aware for my own good most days.  I have no issue owning my personality 'quirks'.  I'm abrupt (some people call it rude), I'm particular in how I do things (i.e. controlling), I'm not overly social (translation - stuck-up and bitchy.  Other people's definition, not mine).  There are more but I won't bore you with the list.  Because I'm here to talk about the biggest, most self-destruction short-coming of mine no one knows about.

For most of my life - all of my adult life - I've been scared.  Scared to succeed.  Oh, I have the desire to be more than I am, have more than I have.  I know it's possible.  Even probable.  I'm not content to be a cog in a wheel. No offense intended to the cogs out there.  Without you, the gears wouldn't turn.  But I'm kinda like that spring which flies off in all directions.  I've never been satisfied staying in one place.

So why, figuratively speaking, have I?  Making the same decisions and mistakes I've always made?  Because I'm afraid that if I become a different version of myself, a better version of myself, that I won't know who I am.  That instead of making who I am better, I'll lose myself.  Sounds crazy, right?  It does.  I know it does.  But I haven't found a way to reconcile that feeling with my brain.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted something more.  Honestly believed that there is something more out there for me, for my life.  I've ventured outside of the norm more times than I can count.  Moving cross country, making this, trying that.  Opening at-home businesses only to have them fizzle out before they have a chance to get off the ground.  I tell myself it's because I don't know how to make them work, and that might be accurate to a point, but I know, deep in my heart, it's because I'm afraid.  I've lived almost fifty years with this person I am and I don't know how to live with someone else.

I sound like a freakin' idiot, I know.  I can see (and feel) the roadblocks as I throw them up.  And I do it anyway.  What's that definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result?  I should have that tattooed on my forehead.  And maybe I'm insane for sharing this publicly.  You know, we live in a society where we're not supposed to let our insecurities show.  God forbid we come across as less than perfect.

Honestly, I'm sharing this because I don't believe I'm alone in how I feel.  Plus, putting it in writing is my way to claim ownership.  And I need to own this one because it's the first time I've ever admitted it.  I sabotage myself.  I torpedo my potential success.  I drain the battery, flatten the tires, siphon the gas from the engine.  I prevent myself from moving forward.  Me.  Only me.

There.  I said it out loud.  I claim it.  It's mine, all mine.  Great.  Now how do I get rid of it?  Ah ha!  That's the real issue.  How do I get past being scared and embrace the unknown?  Relish the possibilities?  Enjoy the fruits of my labors?

I'm not sure yet.  But as the title of this post suggests, it's a new realization.  I'm going to need some time to figure this out.  But not too much.  I'm not getting any younger, after all.  No time to be wasting.  I'm not going to wait until January 1 to make changes.  I'm starting now. 

Welcome to the new (and soon-to-be improved) me.

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