When self-sabotage is a comfortable discomfort.
I wrote an article about an emotionally triggering event. It went viral.
I should have been ecstatic — over the moon, really. Instead, I was left with mixed feelings.
The earnings I made from that article paid for my rent and then some.
Instead of writing more to “earn more,” I wrote less and shockingly watched my reader stats and followers go up daily.
Let me unpack my mixed feelings one layer at a time.
Curious? Read on.
Writing is like lovemaking.
It requires foreplay.
It needs to flirt with thoughts and notes and voice memos throughout the day.
It needs to be needed — constantly.
Sometimes it wants to play rough and make you work for it.
Sometimes it wants to make love to you with soft kisses and gentle caresses all night long.
Sometimes it wants to tease you until you cum unexpectedly with a piece that is utter perfection.
Do the holidays make you overwhelmed too?
I can think of 10 million other places I’d rather be than a holiday party. One of them is a cave with a friendly, cuddly (probably smelly — because since when do caves have showers?) lion. Smelly, cuddly lion sounds a lot more fun than a roomful of people asking me the same question on repeat while donning ugly sweaters.
The holidays suck. Any HSP would agree with me, right?
Once you do, you’ll humbly flaunt it. Here’s how.
Hello fellow human. If you’re reading this, you’re worthy. Maybe you already know that. Or maybe you’re totally clueless and constantly questioning what it is you’re doing on this grand ole’ planet we call Earth.
I’m writing for the tired and weary and wavering as much as I’m writing for the cocky and arrogant and self-aggrandizing souls. After all, we are all striving for something similar, aren't we?
Soul Writer. Single Mama. Life ponderer. Nature Lover. Therapist. Introvert. HSP & Empath. Life is my playground and each day a blank canvas.