This was me in 2010. In Peru. I was entering into my internship after that summer. I remember working while I was over there, securing CPR dates for when I got back and even sending PayPal requests while I was over there. Hustling while learning Spanish. I was doing so much back then. I was content.
At some point in my life, I lost my stride. I used to run a business. I used to attend graduate school. I used to work full-time. I used to raise an infant. I used to (attempt to) sustain a relationship. I used to clean my house regularly. All at the same damn time. Like all of these things, by themselves, would easily tire one human. But for some reason, I don’t do so much anymore. Maybe because I don’t have to. Maybe because I’ve been worn down from pushing to prove that I can do more than what was expected of me for so long. Maybe I’m just tired and feel like I deserve to be lazy.
But the person that’s really inside there knows that that’s all bullshit. That there is so much more that I should be and will be doing. That I really miss going to grad school AND running a business all while hustling my way through full-time employment for the benefits that were not-so-good but better than Medicaid. I miss having multiple forms of income so that I didn’t worry about how to pay for daycare or when surprise bills would show up.
I miss that invigorating feeling of loving what I do and feeling rewarded for it. Not just monetarily, but the pride in doing something and making people laugh or just say “I own this”. Even if it was temporary. Even if no one really knew it was me who owned it. I was okay with that. I knew, and that was enough.
I need that stride. That consistency of putting something out there for the world. I miss creating and being creative. I need that again. I’m happy, but I’m becoming impatient with this stagnation. I’m not growing or learning anymore and I need to be. Time for a change. A new project. Something.
I think part of it is, despite the numerous supportive and encouraging friends I have, I tend to attract one person with low self-esteem. And eventually that shit rubs off on you. And then you begin to question yourself – your motives and talents included. You end up criticizing not only your abilities but your body, your happiness, even the love others have for you.
This move has taught me one thing: Those who love and support you will love and support you. Period. Without making you feel bad for your life choices. Without making your decisions about them. Without being jealous of the things you choose to do for yourself.
With that being said, I’m getting back to the hustle. Back to being fulfilled and living the life I’ve worked so hard to do. Back to being consistent. Back to moving forward.