Expectations.
They weigh so heavy on me.
I want to be the best Mom ever, the best writer ever, the best wife
ever, have the cleanest house ever. And yet… I don’t. Because amid all the
expectations, I become crippled. Crippled by what to do first, or what I can do
before the next thing screams for my attention.
ever, have the cleanest house ever. And yet… I don’t. Because amid all the
expectations, I become crippled. Crippled by what to do first, or what I can do
before the next thing screams for my attention.
So, I’m a good Mom, and an amazing writer, and an okay wife, and my
house needs about six maids to even come close to meeting my standard of clean.
house needs about six maids to even come close to meeting my standard of clean.
So, why am I writing this blog? Because, I can’t breathe.
Because, I look online at all the people who have managed to create
successful businesses that align with their skills and purpose, and I tighten
my choke-hold around myself to “get it together” and “figure it out” NOW.
Because, time is ticking, and last week I was in my 30s, and the week before
that, I was in my 20s. And now, I’m in my 40s.
successful businesses that align with their skills and purpose, and I tighten
my choke-hold around myself to “get it together” and “figure it out” NOW.
Because, time is ticking, and last week I was in my 30s, and the week before
that, I was in my 20s. And now, I’m in my 40s.
But, at some point, I was a child who believed she could accomplish all
that she dreamed. A child who wanted to be a singer and a dancer and an actress….
And the next Barbara Walters. Except, that my expectations were so high, that I
told myself I didn’t have what it took. I wasn’t good enough.
that she dreamed. A child who wanted to be a singer and a dancer and an actress….
And the next Barbara Walters. Except, that my expectations were so high, that I
told myself I didn’t have what it took. I wasn’t good enough.
When the words weren’t from my head, I still believed them… maybe even
more. They said I wasn’t thin enough, I didn’t know how to read music, I couldn’t
tan, I came from very little, and that’s all I’d ever be… And they suffocated
me. From both the inside and outside, I suffocated my dreams, my voice, my energy,
my light.
more. They said I wasn’t thin enough, I didn’t know how to read music, I couldn’t
tan, I came from very little, and that’s all I’d ever be… And they suffocated
me. From both the inside and outside, I suffocated my dreams, my voice, my energy,
my light.
But, I disguised it with successes along the way: college scholarship,
Navy commendation medals, top-rated radio shows, national broadcasting and
journalism awards, live broadcasting feeds to New York, climbing mountains, netting the great man, having smart and well-mannered kids, running the triathlons, always having to be the best and at the top of my game. All of this, while suffocating the
genuine, authentic parts of me.
Navy commendation medals, top-rated radio shows, national broadcasting and
journalism awards, live broadcasting feeds to New York, climbing mountains, netting the great man, having smart and well-mannered kids, running the triathlons, always having to be the best and at the top of my game. All of this, while suffocating the
genuine, authentic parts of me.
And now, in my mid-40s, I am successful, and yet, I can’t breathe. I’ve
built such a beautiful wall of awards and accomplishments, yet, I want it to
crumble to the ground. I want to start over and do it my way, but I feel like I’m
too old to start again… I’m already great at something, and I should just
follow it out until my death. That death feels much closer now than it ever has,
because I’ve allowed myself to believe that my dreams are dead.
built such a beautiful wall of awards and accomplishments, yet, I want it to
crumble to the ground. I want to start over and do it my way, but I feel like I’m
too old to start again… I’m already great at something, and I should just
follow it out until my death. That death feels much closer now than it ever has,
because I’ve allowed myself to believe that my dreams are dead.
So, I want to dream, and I want to believe, but I’m even suffocating
there, because I can’t figure out how to “be the best” singer or actress or
dancer or online marketer or podcaster. So, I do nothing to feel alive. And, because
there, because I can’t figure out how to “be the best” singer or actress or
dancer or online marketer or podcaster. So, I do nothing to feel alive. And, because
of that, I feel like I’m suffocating.
But, I’m no longer doing nothing. Because, even just putting it on
paper is an exhale… to allow more space for oxygen. Because, I don’t want to
suffocate anymore.
paper is an exhale… to allow more space for oxygen. Because, I don’t want to
suffocate anymore.
I really don’t know the path forward. I have no clue. But, I must learn
to let go of the “perfect” expectations if I am going to keep breathing. I need
to let go of the weight of perfection to allow my chest to expand. Otherwise, I
will completely suffocate. And, well… I’m just not a quitter.
to let go of the “perfect” expectations if I am going to keep breathing. I need
to let go of the weight of perfection to allow my chest to expand. Otherwise, I
will completely suffocate. And, well… I’m just not a quitter.
Way cool! Some extremely valid points! I appreciate you writing this write-up and the rest of the website is extremely good.
Thanks for stopping by! Let me know if I can help on your journey. 😀
ig, happy to offer advice. Please feel free to hit the “contact” form and we can connect.
– Debbie