It's time.

 Do you ever have those moments where it feels like you wake up from a fog?

"What day is it?"
"How is it already March?"
"Wasn't it just Christmas?"  

The fog lifts, you take note of the time marching by, and realize that there was something you wanted to do.

Write a book.
Lose 10 pounds before swimsuit season.
Plan a vacation.
Book a mani/pedi.

You have a good inner dialogue about your amazing intentions and vow that this time, you will make it happen.  Then it is bedtime.  You go to bed, wake up in the morning, go to work, and resume your regularly scheduled life.

It's a good one.  You enjoy it, you are optimistic, you are following the rules, being a "good girl."  Graduate high school. Go to college.  Find the love of your life.  Buy a home. Get married. Have kids.

You have it better than so many.  You don't have to think about where your next meal is coming from.  You have shelter.  You are safe.  My God, how many people can't say that?  How can you complain about something as trivial as not knowing your purpose?  Feeling like there is something more, but not being able to put your finger on it.

Yet, it is eating you from the inside.  What is wrong with you?

..............................

What if it isn't something wrong with you?  What if so many of the things we have been conditioned to believe are not real?  We are taught many societal norms from a young age, especially women.  "BE A GOOD GIRL."  Be seen and not heard. Smile.  Don't dress sloppy.  Don't dress too sexy either; you might distract someone. Don't be bossy. Don't be conceited. Don't be too emotional. Be perfect. Be selfless.  Put others first. Run the house. Work full-time. Don't be a slut. Have good manners. Don't demand. 

It took my seemingly happy life crashing around me in 2020 for me to shake the fog.  For me to realize that I am "worthy" just by being alive.  That I am the only Me there will ever be, and I need to rock out with my bad self.  That I cannot act how I think others expect me to act.

I have spent the past year immersed in meditation, yoga, exercise, journaling, therapy, deep discussions with thoughtful friends and even taking Zoloft for the first time.  At first, it was about survival.  Not physical survival; I was always safe and had full support.  But mental survival as my world turned upside down.  As time went on, all of these activities turned into my awakening, and I am just now finally starting to take action on it.

So yes, one of my goals is to write a book.  And you have to start with a first step.  Today, it was lugging my laptop up from the basement and setting it on the kitchen table.  Then I surprised myself by writing this first post.  

Baby steps.  Join me!