I spent yesterday with my art. I wrote the two blog posts, four articles, and edited and submitted a piece to a magazine. I took a break to help Matt clean up the yard some, and to make dinner. I walked the garden with Grandma and pointed out what we’re growing – peas, carrots, tomatoes, various peppers, lettuce, radishes, beans, onions and garlic – Otherwise, I just wrote. It did my mind good to just spend some time with words, and not deal with much of anything else. It helped me refocus on what was important – and that’s literally me and my little family.
Towards the end of the evening, Sophia called. I was just finishing up my magazine submission, and I felt better than I had all day, having accomplished so much. I walked outside to sit on my back deck and talk to her. The moon was gorgeous, as was the twinkling of the string lights on my deck. Over the years Sophia has gained my trust enough that I am able to discuss more openly the things I went through as a child and young adult, so she knows a lot more than most people about my demons and inner turmoil. We were discussing how it seems many people use the traumas they were dealt as an excuse for bad behavior and issues in their life.
Sophia told me, “I was telling Mom and her friend about it. . . That I had a friend who had a horrific childhood, at least what I would consider horrific. . . And that instead of using it as an excuse, that my friend had decided that she didn’t want that for her kids. That she was a beautiful person, with a beautiful attitude and two beautiful boys who kick ass . . . Mom stopped me and said, ‘you’re talking about Amber, aren’t you?’ I told her that I was. That if she knew the things you’d been through she would bawl her eyes out.”
I guess I had never heard it put that way. It warmed my heart to know that Sophia thought so highly of me. It also made me a little sad, though. I know I had a rough childhood, but for someone to tell me I did put a whole new perspective to it.
I told her that the same water that softens the potato hardens the egg. . . I managed to come through everything semi-okay, but not everyone has that strength and perseverance. Some people are too soft for this world. It’s not a bad thing. It just is what it is.
I have come to the realization that while I have worked through a lot of the issues that plague my mental and emotional well-being, I have further to go. I’ve debated seeing a counselor, because I know some of the things I went through aren’t things I will ever write about. Writing is my therapy, and if I can’t write about it, just exactly how am I going to heal? It’s food for thought, anyway. Some things I don’t even want to verbalize. . . Sophia knows about a lot of those things. But she’s the only person I’ve trusted enough to discuss them with. I don’t know that I could trust a complete stranger with the things I’ve found that I haven’t healed from yet.
At any rate, we ended up on the phone until after 11pm, and I realized that tonight would be another night of not enough sleep. You can’t put a price on a good conversation with a good friend though, so it was well worth it.
I managed to get up at 540am still, and submit another article before work. Once I got to work the shitshow was on though, and I barely had time to breathe, let alone keep an eye on my personal email. While on lunch I was able to check though, and two of the five submissions from over the weekend had been accepted, and at higher ratings. I also received an email that the magazine submission I had made had been declined – with a note that said while it wasn’t exactly what they were looking for, that I should keep trying. I intend to return their email and see if I can get more feedback.
You don’t know unless you ask.
I decided at the end of May that I was taking my work to the next level. In less than a month I achieved my goal of getting paid to write.
It’s all about attitude. Which brings us to today’s quote.
“Hold up your head! You were not made for failure, you were made for victory. Go forward with joyful confidence.” – George Eliot
A few nights ago when I was on the phone with Andy – actually Facebook video chat – he made an observation. We were talking about something – what it was escapes me now – and his wife was sitting there. I explained my thoughts on the subject, and how I had decided the way everything was going to play out. He looked at his wife who was sitting next to him and shook his head.
“You see how she does that? She just decides the way shits gonna be. No one can talk her out of it, and she can make anyone believe what she believes. Like you could walk into a house with her, see the basement is flooded. . . And she’ll decide it’s a water feature and make you believe it. She could sell that house and say it has a built in water feature and no one would argue with her about it.”
I don’t know if I’m that good, but I do have a way of manifesting what I want in my life. I have a way of making shit happen. And I have a way of talking to people that conveys my confidence in the outcome and making them believe in it, too.
I am confident in my ability to succeed. I refuse to accept less than what I want. It may take time and hard work, but I generally get what I’m after. I wasn’t put here to fail, and I wasn’t put here to sit still and just accept the cards I was dealt. I’m building a new hand.
Despite the rough childhood, I refuse to accept that I can’t overcome it. It will be hard to work through it, and especially since I have very few people I trust enough to discuss the more traumatic experiences with. But eventually, healing will come – as it does with all things. Eventually I will have my happy ever after. Maybe not tomorrow or next month. . . Hell, maybe not even next year. But someday I will look back and know that my joyful confidence, my perseverance, my absolute refusal to give up on my dreams, got me to where I wanted to be.
And if someone isn’t on board to take that journey with me, if I can’t count that person as an ally and someone I can trust and grow with. . . Well, I suppose than maybe they were just a lesson. Maybe they were just a stepping stone to the person I am working to become.
Until my happy ever after, I’m going to keep working hard. I’m going to keep pushing forward with every ounce of strength I have, and with a smile on my face. Because I know I’m unstoppable, and I know I can only go up from here.
Happy Monday. Have every confidence in who you are and your abilities.