Dear Reader,
Over the weekend, an old friend I was catching up with over drinks asked me how I was doing, and I told her I’m great, and it wasn’t bullshit. Life is very durable, very full and passionate right now. The first half of the year was such a doozy; I was busy, tired, and full. New responsibilities at work, I was taking an acting class, I began dedicating myself to writing with vigor again (no matter how tired, good grief—), and then I took a gig producing/directing a narrative podcast. Oh! And I was trying to lowkey balance a developing social life. January to May showed me what I was made of, in newer ways.
My friend, who I haven’t seen since Christmas, asked me if I was okay after hearing all that I’d done. “Because, hearing all of that, I’m a little worried,” she says.
Me: …why are you worried, girl?
Her: Because. That’s a lot.
Me: Oh, it definitely was. But, I knew I could handle it. (she gives me a ‘Don’t gaslight yourself’ look) No, for real. Yes, I was tired, but, I knew I could do it. And when I couldn’t because I was too exhausted, I established Sunday’s as my sabbath day so that I could give myself to myself. And plus! I knew this was temporary. The class was 8 weeks. The podcast gig was 3 months. Work and writing is the most consistent thing. And my social life wasn’t urgent. I was flexible, but I was active. And I was excited to show up for it. I really knew I could do it.
And I did it. And I am constantly surprised at my capacity to do so.
You know what I realized about myself? Even if I’m exhausted, I make time to cook dinner. I will dedicate 20-30 minutes skating around the kitchen to prepare a good meal I can enjoy in front of the TV with some wine. My little sister heard this one time and went, “You’re buggin’. By 6pm, if I haven’t cooked, it’s not happening.” But, baby, I can be at that stove at 9:30pm like it’s nothing. And I enjoy it! I really enjoy it. I enjoy having the capacity. So much, that when the food is done and I pray before my meal, I’ll tell God, “Whatever stamina you give me to be able to do this, please keep it up. It brings me joy.”
Capacity is such an interesting thing. In this current movement of soft life and taking all the breaks you can take, I’m… kind of not as eager to simmer in that. Maybe it’s because my life has been soft, because my personality is. Hardness was something I had a very bad relationship with; reminded me too much of my father, who as a kid, was strict and preached discipline + organization and being the best and gave whoopings and would come home so tired from work, he’d project his anger from the day onto us if we didn’t do as we were told. Now, my father is a man I love to call every week and have a half hour conversation about life and work and creation. He’s 67 and tired from working for most of his life, so his hardness has softened so maturely. It’s sweet as hell. And he’s proud of his daughters and gets to love them and be loved right back. But, when I think of hardness, I think of the OTHER man. The one he used to be. My inner Cyn is still fractured by that person, sadly.
But when I moved out and began to create a life for myself, I started to realize why he wanted us to learn discipline and organization. Why he preached focus (but didn’t teach, because let’s be real. To be focused is a SKILL and you may not know how to teach it, just to tell people to learn it themselves, lol). Why he wanted us to be the best.
He wanted us to be confident. He wanted us to be exuberant. Active. Participants of the world. He wanted us to go out there and touch/see/taste/smell/hear everything. He wanted daughters that weren’t afraid. And focus, with the eagerness to learn and apply, can do so much for your spirit.
Here’s something I’ve figured (and which I’m open to see change as I continue living):
5 THINGS THAT BUILD CONFIDENCE?
1. Risk
2. Practice
3. Success
4. Failure
5. Gratitude
I think… that… when you are young and able, fast and bright, hungry and tenderfoot, that is when you should go balls to the wall the most. Throw shit at the wall to see what sticks. When I was ready to move to New Orleans and I wanted my father’s blessing (which I thought I wouldn’t get because I was moving without knowing anyone or without a job. Just $10K to get started, and a desire that wouldn’t leave me alone), to my surprise, he said yes right away. And I’ll never forget, he said:
“I would rather you go out there and have an adventure, mess up and make mistakes to figure out how to live, then you staying at home, WAITING. There is no waiting to live in this house. You girls? You are special. Your mom and I made sure of it. We support whatever you do.
YOU.
ARE.
WINNERS.”
My daddy called me a winner, right before one of the greatest adventures of my life. This man, who I used to fear disappointing (still do, sort of) because I was too “soft (the unhealthy kind: passive, distracted)” to be “hard (the good kind: disciplined, organized, focused, eager)”, told me that I have it in me, I just need to exercise it.
And, baby, I see what life looks like when you PUSH yourself. When you get hungry and feed that hunger. When you see more for yourself and begin to materialize it. For me, I’m learning that there is a duality to a thing, and a lot of what we know hardness to be is stubborn, hot, disorienting, selfish, robotic… but there is another side to it, and that is active. To be hard in a way that best serves you, it’s to be forward. Relentless. Confident.
When I realized my father was trying to raise confident women but did it in a way that made us recoil, I forgave him for what he didn’t know and decided to attempt to enforce what he wanted to on my own, with his support. And so, in this life of mine that is MINE, I am excited to see what I am made of. Over the last three years, I have pushed myself in a way that’s felt organic and fulfilling and exciting, because once I decided I wanted that adventure, I made CAPACITY for it. I took everything that came with it and found my voice, my likes, my dislikes, my boundaries, my strengths, my weaknesses, and my creativity.
I was living. And there were very tough days, very lonely days, very uncertain days. But every time I felt them, they were temporary. And when I got the hang of realizing that that’s what it usually is, temporary moments of major discomfort to push through, I knew I could handle whatever comes my way. Because, you can. Discomfort breeds breakthrough, baby. There is something on the other side of this newness you’re embarking on.
And you MUST be curious to find out what it is. Life is about that curiosity, the capacity you make to explore it, and the confidence you build when you have.
So, my readers. I hope you know that it’s not easy. When it gets very tough, create that system where you can rest a little. Find your pockets of rejuvenation, and do it knowing that the hard work you’re putting in is temporary. You’re on the brink of something, so do not let up. Breathe, but don’t break.
You are a WINNER.