Let’s face it, starting the big stuff is never easy.
You know you’re ready to go. You’ve done the ground work. You’re prepared. You’re pepped. You’re pumped. Then you gaze up at that mountain-yet-to-be-climbed, summit smirking in the sunlight, impressive and majestic as fuck, and your freshly minted resolve evaporates like morning dew in the hot sun and before you know it, a king tide of overwhelm floods in and you’re hightailing it outta there quick smart.
You tell yourself it’s not the right time. You’re not ready to start yet. You need to do more research. Of course! Rush of relief. You love research. You feel marvellously productive and safe all at once. Winning. It even sounds good.
Oh yes we’ve all been there, rubbish mountain metaphors aside. I’ve written this first post more times than I can count. Caught up in how I should be writing, what I should be writing, who should I be writing for, whether I should even be writing in the first place. I’m blogging and I’m a mother, my god does that make me a mummy blogger?? What’s so wrong with that anyway? Why is anything with the word ‘mummy’ in it a put down? Aaannd I’m away.
But here I am. Mummy blogger or not. This whole Post-Motherhood-Identity-Recalibration-Thing is not going to write itself. Who cares about how big and beastly that mountain-as-metaphor looks. Someone wiser than me once said, ‘In a year’s time, you will wish you got started today’. Or my personal favourite: ‘If you’ve got to chop wood, chop it; If you’ve got to stop drinkin’, stop it.’
The point is the time is now. So I’m a-choppin’.
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