Getting out of my own way
If there’s anybody who’s “pro” at self-sabotaging, it’s me.
Let me expand a bit.
I’m a bit of an ambitious person. I think I’ve always known this about myself. A seeker. A dreamer. Always wanting more and wanting different. To experience greater things.
When I was 11 going on 12, I was in the 6th grade. And as I entered Franklin middle, I was already thinking & semi-planning for college, years ahead. It was that serious. I had dreams of moving out, living the whole American college dream, traveling — meeting friends I didn’t know yet, experiencing “freedom”, and unlocking the mysteries of whether it was possible.
I didn’t consider myself the super-smart kid but had to try so hard to get my A’s. While everyone thought I was, instead, I was just extra studious because I knew it was my gateway out of a low-income neighborhood/city where dreams go to die. Just kidding. Dreams don’t die in Long Beach, Ca. It’s a beautiful city…
But it can feel that way when you’re stuck in your comfort zone. Somehow, I already knew this.
Years later in my 20s experiencing college life, I noticed I had awful procrastination + wasting time problems. Like, waiting until the last day to write an 8-page essay, kind of problem. Like, getting too distracted with FACEBOOK (lollll) instead of studying. Like, all of a sudden, as I near graduation, there’s this insane pressure to “be somebody”, move into the next chapter as if it was easy. (It wasn’t.)
If things didn’t go the way that I had thought in my head, without taking any of my college antics (lol) or responsible actions into account, I ended my nights, usually suffering and experiencing a silent mental health crisis — a loud-af inner critic jabbering away at why I didn’t have a better job/internship in “my field” yet, toxic lust-cycles (because let’s be honest, ain’t no love in fxckboys), and wondering why my life was the way it was. Why it was “harder” than it seemed.
Now, while gladly approaching my late-20s, I’ve realized how much I’ve sabotaged my fuxking greatness due to my own internal dialogue and fears.
Fears of not being enough, of not making my family proud, of not being smart enough, or whether I’ll ever meet a tall, dark, handsome, and kind guy to treat me right. It was a mental mess. And false beliefs.
The act of overcoming your fears definitely requires self-work and facing all the ugliness that come with your past actions. I realize this now as I’m healing from the life I’ve had thus far. And something I’m learning when it comes to self-sabotage is that (yes, you’ve heard this before), I’m getting in my own way.
I’m learning to step tf aside, so I can thrive.
It seems simple. But it’s not easy.
I’ve recognized that wow, now that I have a tall, dark handsome man loving all up on me, I do sometimes find myself tinkering with why we don’t belong together.
Or, the negative nonsense I tell myself after I’ve moved back into my parents’ place over 3x in the last decade.
Or, that writing as a career is somehow impossible… when, hello, there are millions of people out there, like you, who do it.
I’m going to gas myself up now because all that was depressing.
I’m a writer and I’m proud of this gift. It’s taken me a long time to admit this was my creative outlet of choice because somehow, in the world of false beliefs, I really genuinely believed I wasn’t creative.
No road to success is easy and I’m so fxcking glad I have a beautiful support system that not only challenges me but tells me how it is even when it’s ugly. Like, girrrrl, pick yourself up, ugly.
Love is an experience. It’s all around me. It isn’t defined by one relationship. It’s defined by many — relationships with others: friends, family, neighbors, THE WORLD. A relationship with myself. I highly believe love is meant to be experienced when the time is right.
And yes, going through all the dudes back then who didn’t deserve my energy was honestly learning lessons at the end of it all. And they were fun… because, well, college was fun. Fxck it. BUT, as a self-empowered womxn with much more self-respect as I aged and approaching a much more meaningful life ahead, I’m so glad to say I’m past all that doesn’t serve my highest good. So, peace out, motherf*ckers. Forever.
And hellooooo, to my tall, dark, and handsome gentleman who tells me he loves me a ton, and calls me beautiful every morning, and wants to show me a good damn life without limits! Because wow, I fxcking deserve it.
What a life. Let’s not self-sabotage and instead, enjoy each moment we can experience our fears. Because without it, how will we know we’re alive?
