Coach. Teacher. Writer. Mama.
Fancy titles include Freedom Instigator, Joy Enthusiast and Fierce Love Advocate.
I believe in champagne, utter honesty and creating your own version of success.
I don’t feel so alone anymore.
Aspiring artist with an affinity for all things adorable and anything that brings a little extra magic into everyday life
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Category Archives: Sarah
When I got Molly’s email notifying me I was a finalist in the Season 6 Stratejoy Blogger search, I was getting ready to board a plane to the Blissdom blogging conference. It was late February, and I was just starting to come down from a bad winter. I was down and out, depressed, anxious, and suffering from esphagitus.
I wasn’t convinced I had it in me to reach my goals. I had a tough winter before coming on as a Stratejoy blogger, and I lost faith in myself and my abilities. Five months later, the stuff that used to plague me doesn’t haunt me any more.
There’s something I think about a lot. But I never want to talk about it outloud. Something that sets my stomach churning in that I’m-about-to-vomit way. My mind goes into hyperoverdrive. I want to squeeze my eyes shut and pull myself into a ball and try not to move.
Remember how I said I wouldn’t travel? Because I get all antsy about my routine and picky about how I like my coffee and fussy about pillows? Well. I did it. I threw my fears about traveling off a cliff. And not just any cliff. The cliff of the Grand Canyon.
In some ways, as a toddler-mom, I feel I’m getting the chance to re-do that child part of myself that got lost in seeking As and perfection. My boss, a three-foot-tall, animal cracker eating tyrant, doesn’t give out many sparkling reviews. And she gives me no time to make anything perfect. She only gives me 10 seconds to figure out what I’m going to do and act accordingly. I make mistakes often, and I make up everything as I go along.
On the morning of my taping – 8 a.m. on a Saturday to a 26-person class – I had that icky, sweaty palms feeling. You know that sweaty palms feeling? Where you keep nervously wiping your hands on your pants in a desperate attempt to get rid of that clamminess but it keeps coming back? Yes. That feeling.
Part of me feels itchy and uncomfortable, seeing my mom as a person with her own struggles and challenges. Part of me only wants to view her and my Dad as Parents. Those People Who Know Everything. Seeing her as someone apart from my mother is a strange realization.
Negative triggers, I’ve got them a plenty. A toddler temper tantrum. Argument with Dan. Family trama drama. Issue with a friend. Northern Virginia traffic. Endless loads of laundry. These things set me on edge. And when a couple of them collide, well, I’m a gonner.
As the mom of a two-year-old, I’ve learned not to take myself so seriously. It can be fun to do the unexpected, be silly, and eat apple sauce for dinner. Why not?