"I've got this"
I get a lot of messages each day from: friends who have known me for decades, family living across the country, or I've just learned of through 23 and me, someone I connected with through social media, met at a party once, through an activity of my littles, worked with my hubs, a mommy page or even an online sale of an old bike, a piece of a stitch fix I didn't want or outgrown kid clothes. This may sound silly to some but I love connecting with people in this way. I love the tapestry that is my friends list and love the ever growing nature of connections and the lives I get to be apart of.
These messages come in all forms. But there tends to be 2 very common themes.
The first kind of messages often express gratitude for sharing with vulnerability, for letting that guard down and showing the beautiful disaster that is our life. But it amazes me how often friends mention bravery or courage in doing so. Last night, Barks (the hubs) read to me a particular message he had received. The words hit me in a way I hadn't realized before.
"Brave." The word brought me back to a place just a few years ago. We were in our old house, Barks was on the road traveling and I was alone with then-baby Hud. He hadn't been sleeping. I couldn't remember the last time I had showered or gotten dressed. I was battling another sinus infection, or maybe a migraine. They all blurred together so much, my head was pounding for one reason or another most days, or perhaps it was because I was out of K-cups. The air conditioning had gone out in the old SUV I had bought from my grandpa and it was another HOT Kansas summer topping triple digits. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to breathe. I needed to be around people. But I didn't. I couldn't take the baby out in the heat with no AC. I didn't have any family around to watch him. I couldn't ask anyone to help. No, I had this. I could figure it out myself.
So I stayed home. A lot. Our family suffered. My health suffered. My sanity suffered. Our marriage suffered. I told myself I needed people. I needed friends. I needed something. I signed up for a mom's group at church, but couldn't bring myself to go. For 2 years I enrolled and never went to a single meeting. I was scared. I felt awkward. I didn't belong. I was a disaster. I didn't have it all together and what if they saw all that? I didn't measure up to the Pinterest lives and Facebook families. No, I was a mess.
Charli was born. I thought by then I would figure it out. We had a new car, finished the basement, we had more space and Barks had a new, higher paying job. But, he was on the road. Even more. And I was left alone. But I had it. I could do it all by myself. That was the lie I kept saying. "I've got this." Scared to ask anyone else for help. Scared to show who I was. Scared to admit, I couldn't do it alone.
That lie? Those 3 little words? "I've got this" continued to take me into a downward spiral and one in which I no longer recognized this girl I had become. She hid behind a smile, a lot of caffeination, big hair and bright lipstick all that she was, all that she felt, and all that she feared.
But one day she made a decision. It wasn't just one, but a sequence of decisions, small at first, then growing bigger and bigger and bigger. It wasn't that she wasn't still afraid, or isn't, she just made the decision not to let that fear freeze her in her tracks any longer.
She didn't have "it." She was falling apart and it was time to ask for help. At first it was finally walking into church that morning for women's group. It was saying "yes" to spending time with a friend, to a playdate, then another, to asking a favor, and actually hiring a non-family sitter to watch the kids and have a few uninterrupted minutes of conversation with her husband.
It wasn't just one thing it was little decisions that turned into bigger ones.
I'm scared. A lot. But the thing is, that fear of letting people see of who I was, of asking or help, of admitting I couldn't do it alone, THAT was what was paralyzing me, not the outcome or the judgement.
I am humbled daily by those second kind of messages as well. Those are the ones who reach out and ask me for help. And while a great deal of those have to deal with the amazing products I share and represent, many aren't. They are everything from relationship advice, to paint colors, to what to wear to a wedding, to kiddo discipline, reviewing an email, taking a look at a contract, where to find a tutor or what school is the best, to where I bought that unicorn headband.
I take a lot of criticism for "what I do." And at first, for this self-proclaimed "people pleaser" that was hard to swallow. Some of my very dearest friends haven't once mentioned or asked about my successful business or how many people I get the pleasure of helping. I get the eye rolls and the chuckles when former law colleagues hear what I'm now.
And it's taken a while for me to get here, but I'm really proud of what I get to do. Some call me a network marketer, some spout the Pyramid word without really knowing what that is or what they talking about. Some can say "I mailed it in "and made a "waste" out of a law degree and bar admittance in 2 states.
I love my role. I love my life. I love what I get to do. I love my connections and my far reaching ability to impact, help, inspire and solve problems for thousands in my journey.
What do I do? Social solving. We are a social solving culture. Books, restaurants, makeup, parenting styles, decorating, marriage advice. We rely on the people we trust and their opinions and experience.
You are not alone. And chances are, you don't have "it" under control either. The hard truth? None of us do. We all need each other. We all need help. We all sometimes just need someone there who gets it.
And I'm here. So whether it's a cup of coffee with a sympathetic ear, a virtual glass of wine/whine in our PJs, a laugh, to share a crazy BHAG, help restoring your health, that headache, your attitude, your faith, I'm here for those, too.
You don't have to be fearless. Just make the decision to have courage and ask anyway.
I'm here.
"Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision." - Winston Churchill
These messages come in all forms. But there tends to be 2 very common themes.
The first kind of messages often express gratitude for sharing with vulnerability, for letting that guard down and showing the beautiful disaster that is our life. But it amazes me how often friends mention bravery or courage in doing so. Last night, Barks (the hubs) read to me a particular message he had received. The words hit me in a way I hadn't realized before.
"Brave." The word brought me back to a place just a few years ago. We were in our old house, Barks was on the road traveling and I was alone with then-baby Hud. He hadn't been sleeping. I couldn't remember the last time I had showered or gotten dressed. I was battling another sinus infection, or maybe a migraine. They all blurred together so much, my head was pounding for one reason or another most days, or perhaps it was because I was out of K-cups. The air conditioning had gone out in the old SUV I had bought from my grandpa and it was another HOT Kansas summer topping triple digits. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to breathe. I needed to be around people. But I didn't. I couldn't take the baby out in the heat with no AC. I didn't have any family around to watch him. I couldn't ask anyone to help. No, I had this. I could figure it out myself.
So I stayed home. A lot. Our family suffered. My health suffered. My sanity suffered. Our marriage suffered. I told myself I needed people. I needed friends. I needed something. I signed up for a mom's group at church, but couldn't bring myself to go. For 2 years I enrolled and never went to a single meeting. I was scared. I felt awkward. I didn't belong. I was a disaster. I didn't have it all together and what if they saw all that? I didn't measure up to the Pinterest lives and Facebook families. No, I was a mess.
Charli was born. I thought by then I would figure it out. We had a new car, finished the basement, we had more space and Barks had a new, higher paying job. But, he was on the road. Even more. And I was left alone. But I had it. I could do it all by myself. That was the lie I kept saying. "I've got this." Scared to ask anyone else for help. Scared to show who I was. Scared to admit, I couldn't do it alone.
That lie? Those 3 little words? "I've got this" continued to take me into a downward spiral and one in which I no longer recognized this girl I had become. She hid behind a smile, a lot of caffeination, big hair and bright lipstick all that she was, all that she felt, and all that she feared.
But one day she made a decision. It wasn't just one, but a sequence of decisions, small at first, then growing bigger and bigger and bigger. It wasn't that she wasn't still afraid, or isn't, she just made the decision not to let that fear freeze her in her tracks any longer.
She didn't have "it." She was falling apart and it was time to ask for help. At first it was finally walking into church that morning for women's group. It was saying "yes" to spending time with a friend, to a playdate, then another, to asking a favor, and actually hiring a non-family sitter to watch the kids and have a few uninterrupted minutes of conversation with her husband.
It wasn't just one thing it was little decisions that turned into bigger ones.
I'm scared. A lot. But the thing is, that fear of letting people see of who I was, of asking or help, of admitting I couldn't do it alone, THAT was what was paralyzing me, not the outcome or the judgement.
I am humbled daily by those second kind of messages as well. Those are the ones who reach out and ask me for help. And while a great deal of those have to deal with the amazing products I share and represent, many aren't. They are everything from relationship advice, to paint colors, to what to wear to a wedding, to kiddo discipline, reviewing an email, taking a look at a contract, where to find a tutor or what school is the best, to where I bought that unicorn headband.
I take a lot of criticism for "what I do." And at first, for this self-proclaimed "people pleaser" that was hard to swallow. Some of my very dearest friends haven't once mentioned or asked about my successful business or how many people I get the pleasure of helping. I get the eye rolls and the chuckles when former law colleagues hear what I'm now.
And it's taken a while for me to get here, but I'm really proud of what I get to do. Some call me a network marketer, some spout the Pyramid word without really knowing what that is or what they talking about. Some can say "I mailed it in "and made a "waste" out of a law degree and bar admittance in 2 states.
I love my role. I love my life. I love what I get to do. I love my connections and my far reaching ability to impact, help, inspire and solve problems for thousands in my journey.
What do I do? Social solving. We are a social solving culture. Books, restaurants, makeup, parenting styles, decorating, marriage advice. We rely on the people we trust and their opinions and experience.
You are not alone. And chances are, you don't have "it" under control either. The hard truth? None of us do. We all need each other. We all need help. We all sometimes just need someone there who gets it.
And I'm here. So whether it's a cup of coffee with a sympathetic ear, a virtual glass of wine/whine in our PJs, a laugh, to share a crazy BHAG, help restoring your health, that headache, your attitude, your faith, I'm here for those, too.
You don't have to be fearless. Just make the decision to have courage and ask anyway.
I'm here.
"Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision." - Winston Churchill
Comments
Post a Comment