by Joey | May 4, 2016 | Throwback
I am not hardcore. I feel things. I feel everything.
I used to argue with my husband when he’d tell me that I’m too emotional that it was a necessary quality in a writer. In a good writer, anyway. But where it’s not a good quality? In life. In life, being emotional makes you unpredictable. Weak. Sometimes insufferable.
Everything I ever do, I do based on feeling. I used to be the most cheerful person on the planet, insufferably cheerful even. So basing everything on emotion was perfectly fine because I gave the world the benefit of the doubt, blissfully unaware of the dark side of people. But life has weathered me, leaving me bitter and lately…angry. Leaving life up to emotion when you feel angry 90% of the time is dangerous. Irresponsible. Toxic.
I have a lot to sort out; my head is a jumbled mess of thoughts and worries. Things I never knew bothered me are bubbling to the surface, and I don’t know how to make sense of it all. I’m becoming uncomfortably intimate with my imperfections.
I’ve mentioned my struggle with authenticity vs. approval. While I don’t think any of us should trade our authenticity for approval, we do need to remember that sometimes our authentic selves are struggling great loss, and that authenticity is intimate, better kept behind closed doors.
I’m not good at faking it. I spent a lot of my life faking everything, praying to fit in and find approval. I swore off that drug, only to find that in some situations it’s necessary. Grin and bear it, they say. Something I’ll have to re-learn.
I’ve let my authentic self hang out all over the place lately. This angry, blubbering mess of a girl, confused about everything, has been stomping around taking everyone in my path down with me.
I am an imperfect, emotional person. But I am also a grown woman. And somehow blending those two has been more difficult than I ever imagined.
by Joey | Apr 28, 2016 | Throwback
I’m a planner. I’m obsessed with knowing the how. And I’ll be honest and tell you that sometimes I get so caught up in the how that I miss the point entirely.
The how doesn’t matter if you aren’t doing. And if you’re like me and get caught up in the how, you’ll know that the how obsession can and will paralyze you.
Because in reality, you can’t always see the whole path. If you’re lucky, you can maybe see a step or two ahead, but that’s it. It’s your faith that the path will lead you to the right place if you just keep doing that matters the most.
Because the how isn’t always up to us. But the what is. Our job is to focus on the what and let the universe come up with the how.
This obsession creeps in every now and again. I’m human and not immune, no one is. I didn’t realize what this actually was, this obsession with the how, until recently. I thought it was writer’s block, but the ideas and desire are there. And then I thought it was fear, but at this point what the hell do I have to be afraid of?
And then I realized that I find myself in the future occasionally, living so many steps ahead that I don’t recognize my surroundings and I can’t find my way back. I can’t see anything clearly, and I’m not immersed in my work, in my words, the part I always recognize, and then the fear creeps in and I run to the nearest corner and hide there until life catches up.
We end up on fast forward sometimes unintentionally. A button accidentally gets pressed, probably triggered by comparison or fear, and before you know it you’ve lost your way.
Let go.
Let it all go.
You have greatness inside of you, but if you get stuck in the planning phase, how will anyone ever see it?
by Joey | Apr 27, 2016 | Throwback
I’ve been searching for answers lately. Guidance. Courage and clarity.
Things I know, I’ve started to second guess. I’ve been holding my breath, scared to take a chance. I can see what I want my future to look like, but moving forward seems useless because nothing is happening quickly enough. These days it has to be warp speed or not at all.
But the other day, I took the dog running with me. It was the first time she’d been out with me in almost 10 months, so we took it easy. For the first time since I’d been back at it, I didn’t worry about how fast I was going. I set an easy goal of 1.5 miles but understood we might have to walk some.
I kept an eye on her, kept asking if she was okay, checking for signs that she might need a break.
Before I knew it, we’d reached our goal. She did great, and I felt great. I could have kept going but didn’t want to push her. We’d go out again another day and go further, all in good time.
As we were walking back into the apartment, it struck me that I was so willing to give her grace but not myself. I was concerned for her well being. I wanted her to enjoy herself, not to push her too hard, too far, too fast. But yet when the signs are clear that I need to take a break, I think I’m weak and push through the feeling.
When I run on my own, I’m obsessed with my pace. I don’t care that I’ve had injuries. I don’t care that I haven’t been consistent for months. If it’s not far and fast, it’s a waste.
Tell me that isn’t crazy.
Tell me you haven’t thought the same before…
We push ourselves so hard. We forget that pacing ourselves is more important than crossing the finish line first. We’ll all get there in good time as long as we don’t kill ourselves in the process.
We’re so quick to offer those around us grace, but we don’t give ourselves the same courtesy. We forget that if we pace ourselves, the chances of crossing the finish line are better.
So hold on.
Slow down.
Breathe.
Just don’t give up.
by Joey | Apr 26, 2016 | Throwback
I’ve always been a firm believer in the good. I can’t say I’m an optimist, I think life has weathered me into a bitter human, but I always hold on to hope.
When things start to spiral out of control, life falling apart around me, I can’t help but be filled with a bit of excitement. A wave I’ve ridden before, I know the good always comes after the bad. Always. It may take time. It may come packaged differently than I expect, but it always comes. And it’s always good.
The truth is, in order for change to occur, things have to get jostled. Seals have to be broken. It has to break before it can set. It might hurt a little.
When I was fifteen, I had my appendix removed. When I woke from the anesthesia, I thanked the nurses for helping me but begged them to please make the pain stop. We had to hurt you, they told me, in order to fix you.
Sometimes I imagine God with a scalpel, cutting us open to fix what’s broken. The pain comes and then somehow, someway, things get better. We heal.
You have to make room for the good in your life, and that often requires you to make a painful, tough decision to let something else go. You have nothing to trust but your instincts, and you’re terrified you’ll make a mistake.
You’re not alone.
Everyone has felt the same way
at some point or another.
Pain is usually the universes way of telling us something needs to change. Something is broken. Something is hurting us. Something no longer functions like it should. Change it.
I realize this is easier said than done, I’ve been living inside a fear bubble for way too long so trust me, I get it. But I have to tell you (and possibly remind myself), that I’ve never taken a chance that I’ve regretted. So maybe our instincts are better than we think.
Like I said, I believe in the good.
So go find some good.
And maybe the pain will stop.
by Joey | Apr 21, 2016 | Throwback
I feel the limitations weighing down on me. The judgements. The expectations. The assumptions.
It seems we are all slotted into a certain category early on in life, and we spend the rest of our lives trying to break free from that box. Because honestly, who likes to be boxed in?
I can no longer be considered a “young adult,” according to the definition offered by the Oxford Dictionary, but I’m still struggling with more than I’m proud to say at this stage of my life. Thirty is staring me in the face, and there is so much that I don’t have a grip on.
I naively created a 30 before 30 list when I was living in the Buies Creek bubble. We didn’t have much money, but I had all the time in the world to dream up dreams and explore my wants. Just two years later, that list would look a lot different.
The fact is, I didn’t think I’d still be in the figuring it out phase of my life at this point. Everything in our lives right now is transitory. I craved the escape from The Football Life to squash the feelings of impermanence, but it turns out the permanent is up to you.
And that’s where the decision fatigue sets in. What do you want people ask, and now the answer has to be much more practical, not a childhood fantasy of wishes. And while my wants are simple, the mistakes that litter our path seem impossible to surmount.
Trapped.
It’s in moments like these when the desire to make radical changes reminds me that everything starts with just one step at a time.
I’m standing on Start, spinning in a circle, incapable of making the choice of where to set my foot down first. What if I choose wrong? What if I make a mistake?
Mistakes these days don’t just leave someone with hurt feelings, remedied by a simple apology and an offer for a sleepover, they can alter your path.
But in the end, as Kathleen Shannon so profoundly stated, your path is your path mistakes and all. And while I can look back and pinpoint certain decisions that I may regret, they didn’t knock me off my path completely, they simply weighed me down, making the hike more exhausting.
Obstacles to overcome.
So ultimately, we just have to decide and do.
But that feels much scarier when the time is now.
