I’ve been quiet online lately. After reading the 4-Hour Work Week by Tim Ferriss, I realized that I needed to go on a major information diet. There was so much input coming in that I felt overwhelmed and scattered.
So I unplugged for a while and took a nice break from the many podcasts and blogs that I took in on a regular basis. I highly recommend doing this every once in a while just to engage with the “real” world.
But then I took it a step further.
The other day I was at Goodwill and found a book – Midlife Crisis at 30. “Oh my gosh,” I thought, “that’s me.” Though I’m only 26, so maybe quarter-life crisis would be a better term. But it’s a crisis none-the-less and I’m having one; in a big way.
A few years ago, my life took this crazy turn where I went from medical-minded, “normal” woman to a granola, home-birthing, “weirdo”. I love that.
But now, I feel like, I don’t know, like I’m losing my mind. Being home with my kids is hugely important to me but I feel like something is missing. I look at my husband who has a job that he loves and finds fulfilling. He gets to hang out with people who are more than coworkers – they’re friends. He’s often referred to work as a second family. For him, life is pretty great. And, dammit, I’m jealous.
And now, after years of contentment with living in central Oregon, I’m feeling the lure of the big city. I have a big house on two acres where I can keep my animals, which I thought was just what I wanted (minus the big house) and I just want to pack up and move to Portland. My goat had a baby the other day and she’s absolutely adorable and I’m stoked to keep her, but really? Can this wait? Is this really what I want? Maybe in the future, but now? I don’t know.
I want contentment. I want to learn how to be present in the moment and enjoy my family. I want to write and learn and create everyday. I want to give what I have to offer to the world in a way that fulfills me and serves a greater purpose. And it would be really great to make some extra money.
I am done with my self-imposed limitations, feeling like I have to shut myself off and what I’ve been created to do while I raise a family. I’m tired of putting my midwifery education on the backburner. I’m tired of being scared to talk to people and let them know how much I have to offer. I’m tired of believing that I don’t have much to offer. And I can’t even tell you how done I am with being SO broke and the major stress that causes me on a daily basis.
Naturally, as a way to cope with this in the most healthy way possible, I’ve spent the last several weeks withdrawing. It started as a diet, turned into a fast and now I’m starving. I’ve let myself become disengaged, believing the lie that nobody cares and threw myself the most awesome pity-party I’ve ever seen.
I am so done with that, too.
I’m ready to step up and live. To finally believe in myself the way my husband does and just do what I was made to do. I will not be a model of mediocrity for my children. I refuse. I am more than what I have become. I am woman, hear me roar!
Too much? Sorry, I was on a roll.
This is what I will do: I will force myself out of my comfort zone. Every day. And I will tweet about it. Every. Day.
When I write, when I create, when I enjoy my family, when I do something that terrifies me. You know, like putting myself out there for some freelance writing thing or trying to crowdfund my midwifery education. I’m doing this. And I will be rescheduling the post that should come out tomorrow (oh wow, today, it’s past midnight???) so that I can’t wimp out and delete this.
But I need your help in this. Will you help me stay accountable? Pretty please.
If you’re down with that, there’s a purple “follow” bar on the left with a twitter icon. Click it and follow me and I WILL keep you updated on my progress.
Love you guys.
-ninaPAID ENDORSEMENT DISCLOSURE: In order for me to support my blogging activities, I may receive monetary compensation or other types of remuneration for my endorsement, recommendation, testimonial and/or link to any products or services from this blog.