I feel like we do this every year—I get a little older, grow a little wiser, but somehow miss the mark on accomplishing the countless items left sitting on my to-do list with each passing birthday. Call it being unrealistic or being too hard on myself, but there’s a genuinely great feeling I get from lightening my load by even one item, and it’s that high I keep chasing—especially when I know I’ve done it right.
It’s not something I expect anyone else to get—it’s always proven difficult to articulate the jumbled thoughts inside my cranium, though Lord knows I’ve tried as this blog’s continued to grow. What it comes down to is this—I know myself: I know myself well, and if I ever want to move on to handle some of the bigger challenges in my life, there’s a tome of writing I’m going to have to do first.
2016’s had its way with me so far, so much so that I had to step away from blogging for a bit before it consumed me completely.
Because I’ve never been the type to accept half-measures—where some might juggle family life, a side hustle, and the full-time gig to pay the bills, I do the same somehow thinking it possible to give all I have to doing my best at each of them. At the same time. Every time.
But reality’s staring me dead in the face—I needed enough energy to be present and active for my young, growing family; the time I’d use on blogging in the wee hours of the night suddenly saw itself consumed by some demanding projects at the “9-5”; and with what little I had left in the tank, it was far from enough to handle a blog that’d long since grown too large for one person to handle, no matter how much I wanted to deny it.
So I stepped away. I stopped blogging for a bit to hold on to what I still had of my eroding sanity, and despite the missed deadlines and page views on a steady decline, it’s the smartest thing I could’ve done—I just didn’t have it in me to keep moving forward with my life.
I haven’t given up, though—I still believe it possible to overcome the wealth of work I’ve piled up for myself; I just need to make the time to put in the work that’s obviously needed, without working myself to the point where working hard isn’t even an option.
And if there’s any birthday gift I can give to myself, it’s that.
Thirty-Three Down, Dozens More to Go — Writing My Way to the Life I Want to Know
The deeper I’ve gone down the rabbit hole with my #BloggerLife, the more I realize the height of the bar floating before me. This isn’t the 2011’s blogosphere where things seemed to come easily and I’d envy the “big dogs” in the room with Twitter followings in the tens of thousands—my hustle’s now in the company of creators with half a million YouTube subscribers, and it’s clear as day that there’s no turning back.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this—giving up isn’t an option. I’m in too deep and tasted too much to just walk away from the #BloggerLife… even if I do feel like wrapping it up at times. There’s no guide out there that’ll tell me what it is I need to do next—the only things that’ll solve this puzzle are time, determination, and a crap ton of self-reflection.
Happy birthday to me—may I eventually get it together so I can figure out which “me” I need to be.
Until the next,