You have called, emailed and sent text messages. All inquiring where Badass and Beautiful has been. And while I’ve tried for weeks to attempt to formulate a proper response to your questions, the words have escaped me. Because we all know how hard it is to hide from something once it has been said.
But as of today, there will be no more hiding. Not for me, nor for you, nor for anyone who has ever read this blog with aspirations of being better than they were the day before. Because if there’s one thing you must embrace if you are determined to succeed it is your reality. You must learn to look straight into the eyes of the one thing that will never fail you:
Mine, which I’ve been suppressing as if I could kill it, is that I’m exhausted. And not in the sense that taking a beach vacation will restore me to my previous self. I feel broken, lifeless, and – dare I say – on the verge of being defeated. Some call it burnout. Others hitting a wall. All I know is that there’s barely an ounce of me that feels like I did before.
That is before life decided to declare war on me. Before the professional candle I was burning at both ends began to flicker, and personal matters beat me to a pulp of my core. Before I struggled to get out of bed in the morning or found myself crying – for no apparent reason – in the middle of the supermarket. Before the person with such drive and direction found herself wandering. Lost.
All of this has been compounded, of course, by my Type A, pull-your-shit-together-you-are-better-than-this-tendencies. The ones that have resulted in a soundtrack of self-deprecation that is there to remind me just what a shame I am as it plays throughout my days. As someone who has built a brand on my capacity to talk myself – or others – in, out or through absolutely anything, my inability to pick myself up from this has left me feeling like a hypocrite. So how the hell could I possibly write to motivate you when I couldn’t even practice what I preach?
That may, perhaps, be a too detailed glimpse into the workings of my psyche. Yet I know you’re sitting there reading this, finding grounds on which you can relate. Whatever the struggle, the disappointment, there’s something universal about the concept of a breaking point. When suddenly – despite building a foundation on hard work and dedication – giving up and giving in seem like appealing options to take.
But there’s something Badass and Beautiful about the breaking point if you know where to find it. In having the courage to admit that you’re not okay. Because being fed up is your soul’s form of shouting that you want, need and deserve better. That you cannot live like this and owe it to yourself to find another way.
Armed with this logic, rock bottom becomes not a punishment but a place of purpose. Hitting it provides you grounds from which to effectively bounce back. But you can’t start your journey upward without first being honest with yourself about how you got there. This post is my attempt to do that. And to assure you that I’ll be back.