My vagina monologue
4 months ago, I got a wild idea to move (again). Those who know me know that I’m restless, and often find myself in need of change.
But as the excitement mounted, I found I had no time to think this through. I mean, isn’t that what we who “adult” do? Get a grand idea full of hopes and dreams and then find ourselves in analysis paralysis looking for all the reasons we shouldn’t do whatever “it” may be.
I’ve been one too many times on that analysts’ couch, getting comfortable in my own head where fear and doubt take hold and worry about what others would do and think. How many times do we put ourselves and our situations into a movie scene and think, act, and pretend what our favorite character would do? I’ve done it.
But with zero free time, you don’t have the luxury of fantasizing that your life is this big movie set. Julia Roberts (in Erin Brockovich) won’t be deciding my next move – it’s all on me.
I work full time – some weeks nearly 50 hours. When I’m not working, I’m exercising, taking care of my old-as-fuck-dog, feeding all of us, cleaning the boat, and doing all the laundry. And the weekly blog. I’m not complaining, just explaining.
There are times when your body just shuts down – when you become so tired, and so stressed, and have ignored the warning signs, and then BAM, you can’t function.
That was me on Thursday night. I didn’t feel better until Saturday night, but then only in waves and well, today I flew out for another work trip, leaving the boat, Erik, and the OG to fend for themselves while I visit Disney for a 3-day work conference. And for the record, y’all may find this the “happiest place on earth”, but when you are a single at a family resort, it’s quite the opposite.
Back to the point: as the excitement wears off and we settle into a short routine, my inner “vagina monologue” has kicked into high estrogen mode and while I know nothing I’m thinking is making any real sense, it’s creating huge drama for me. Making me doubt my decisions and this lifestyle. Raising fears to the surface that can be quelled with time, experience, and confidence. Things like:
– you rushed this
– you can’t handle sailing
– you aren’t smart enough
– you can’t even color your own hair
Why do we do that? Why do we get into our heads and curl up like we want to live there forever? I don’t want to be that comfortable in my head. This is where we lose our guts to try new things. To explore, to build, to learn. We talk ourselves out of doing what generations before us did: try.
I’m not about to give up. I just recognize how powerful our head space can be – and even though what I’m about to embark on is seen as scary to many, we aren’t stupid, or risky. And I don’t need to convince anyone otherwise. And by anyone, I mean me.