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Will it ever be enough?

posted 8th April 2011    Written by: Katharine    CATEGORY: All Posts, Katharine, Quarterlife Crisis, Travel/Adventure

I’ve been living in Prague for three weeks now, but I feel like my life is still the same.  Except, it’s not.  But, it kind of is.

Truth is, I don’t feel like I’m doing anything big in my life right now.  I know, I moved.  To another continent, across bodies of water, and to one of the most gorgeous cities in the world.  And I’m taking this TEFL program and busting my ass to get certified, and I’m meeting some amazing people and creating wonderful friendships, but I still feel empty inside.  I still feel like my life isn’t amounting to anything spectacular.

I want to do big, bold, gutsy things in life, but I don’t know what those things are, and I don’t know what defines them as being big, bold, and gutsy.  Some people consider moving to a new country gutsy.  One month ago, I thought it was, but now that I’m here, I feel like this isn’t enough.  The hardest part was getting here.  Now that I’m here, I’m craving something else.  Something bigger.  Does it get any bigger than this? And if so, how can I get there?

I made a commitment to get certified to teach English as a foreign language, and I’m now one week away from completing that goal.  I’ve spent the last three weeks planning lessons, studying grammar, and learning the skills it takes to be an effective English teacher.  I’ve stayed up nearly every night until 2 or 3AM working on lesson plans or grammar presentations because I want to be completely prepared the next day.  I love the intensity that goes with this TEFL certification, but I’m terrified that I’m going to fail at teaching English.

Deep down inside, I have this hidden fear that I’ll never be happy.  I’m afraid that I’m going to spend my lifetime searching for a happiness that doesn’t exist or will never be found.  I constantly have this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and I don’t know how to fill it.

TWSS?

(sorry, I couldn’t help myself.)

I want to be one of those people who is brave enough to live the kind of life they’ve always dreamed of, but I’m terrified of failing.  Again.  I’m terrified of spending the next five years of my life living abroad, traveling the world, and having nothing to show for it.

My emotional demons are crippling me from living the best life I possibly could. I’m struggling with accepting my past and moving on with my future.  I’m struggling with feeling like I’m not good enough to do amazing things in life because I’ve failed at so many things already.  I don’t know how to reclaim a life so beaten, tattered and torn that it simply can’t be fixed.

Will I ever be enough?

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Hello. My name is Alisha and I’m a (Recovering) Perfectionist.

posted 29th October 2010    Written by: Alisha    CATEGORY: Alisha, All Posts, Inspiration, Life Lesson, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 3, Tips & Tools, What I've Learned

I might be the poster child for Perfectionism.  I was that Straight-A kid whose worst crime between the ages of 0 and 18 was rolling up my shorts in the 4th grade.  No really, I didn’t even go to a party in high school.  Remember that suicide attempt when I was 14?  What pushed me over the edge was the D in Geometry that appeared on my mid-term report card.  I was then convinced that I would never get into Harvard and that my perfect dreams of a perfect life had come to a crashing end.  Whenever I did something, I wanted to do it with finesse.  I wanted to impress.  I had to be perfect.

I’m quite certain that Perfectionism is closely tied to Control.  I moved around a lot as a child and it wasn’t always my choice.  Even though I tell people that it was a good experience (I saw many different types of people and places) my nomadic childhood definitely played a part in my need to control everything in my life.  I don’t play risky games.  In fact, I refuse to bowl because I’m afraid I’ll suck at it.  I know it sounds ridiculous and I wish it weren’t true.

When I had children, I fully intended on keeping my Perfectionist ways.  I wanted to be the perfect mom: the cleaner, the baker, the expert diaper changer and awesome play date host with the happiest children on the block.  I wanted to stick to my regular cleaning schedule:  vacuuming three times a day and scrubbing toilets twice a week.  Yeah.  Right.  Now when “Perfectionist Alisha” tries to come out (which is still way too often), I have some arsenal on hand.  Here are my four ways to combat Perfectionism.

Affirmations.   I write them, sometimes two or three times, at then end of my morning pages every day.  They are uplifting and get my mind and heart on track.  They are my battle cry.  They are the mantras that help guide my choices and thoughts throughout the day.

Journaling.  Sometimes I just have to write it out.  The root of (my) Perfectionism is fear—the fear of not being in control, the fear of not being loved.  When I write down all of the thoughts that are haunting me, I am better able to identify the true source of those feelings and beat them down.  Then I feel empowered—and in control.

Glory Board.  I originally got this idea from Danielle LaPorte of WhiteHotTruth.com.  She suggests that you write down anything and everything you have accomplished in your life that made you feel really great.  Then my creative coach, Rachel, helped me turn this into a daily activity.  At the end of the day, instead of focusing on everything that went wrong (or was imperfect), I focus on everything that went right.  It is much easier to sleep when you feel like you conquered your day.

Call a good friend or find some on Twitter.  I have a few good friends who always have encouraging words; they help me find the silver lining, see the big picture and tell me when to suck it up and when to let go.  Twitter is also my new favorite hangout spot.  I have been fortunate enough to befriend some really amazing and supportive people.  I know I can always depend on my Twitter family.

Over the last few years, this is what I have learned: Perfectionism is fear.  Fear that love is conditional.  I learned that a Perfectionist is fake.  A Perfectionist is lonely.  A Perfectionist is a tortured soul.  A Perfectionist is boring.  A Perfectionist is perpetually exhausted.  A Perfectionist will never be happy.

I’ll always be a recovering Perfectionist.  But as each day passes, I remind myself that life doesn’t always go as planned. I remember that I will never be perfect—because it’s not possible.  Will I always try to be the best version of me I can possible be?  Of course.  There’s nothing wrong with my wanting to be a walking bowl of awesome-sauce.  I just no longer fool myself into thinking I will always walk a straight line.

(photo: Etsy art by cREaTebyRET found via Michelle Ward)

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Fearlessly Afraid, and Pretty Confused

posted 24th October 2010    Written by: Lindsey    CATEGORY: Life Lesson, Lindsey, Season 3, Travel/Adventure, What I've Learned

I am fearless when it comes to many things. Heights aren’t a big thing. While the imminent death of standing on a precipice usually gives me vertigo, I can usually suck it up for the cliff jumping experience.

Giant spiders might scare me if I hadn’t muted down the fear living in Hawaiian jungles. I once woke up with a spider the size of my hand in bed with me. When I scooted away, the spider disappeared into the dark corners of my bamboo cottage. I caught glimpses of him on the walls throughout the next few weeks, but I was okay with the monster spider in a way that made me chuckle to imagine most of my friends in this situation. (To their shrieks over daddy long legs: “You’re scared of THAT spider? Duuuuudddeee.”)

I might even call fear one of my pet peeves. Most of the stuff I end up doing is something that someone in my life is afraid of and very willing to share their fears with me.

The latest example is on the sailing front. I tell people I am going to crew on a sailboat and the general consensus is that I will definitely be raped and murdered by the captain, who most definitely is hiring crew only to achieve said rape and murder of innocent little me. And if that doesn’t happen, I will definitely be sold into sex slavery because the African warlords love American girls. And if not that, the pirates will rob us. And rape us.

Not exagerating at all, I have had to make up excuses for these very real fears that people have for me. The African warlords one was my favorite. Seriously? That is why you want me to give up this experience? Because there is a possibility (?!) of THAT?

I fell hard of my bike the other day. Riding home from yoga at eleven in the morning, making a too-quick turn and there I was sprawled on the pavement. I smashed a lot of things, but I avoided my head, thankfully.

An experience like that really woke me up though. Life is fragile. There is no time clock on my life. And I do, I really do want to live a long, luscious life of amazing awesomeness. But if I’m gonna bite the dust, I’d much rather do it living my life out loud, rather than holding back and living in fear. If I would have died on my bike, at 24, while living with my parents, I would have been pissed.

But while I can live my fearless life, I do have a BIG, very real fear:  public speaking.

And you can’t even DIE from this. Yet here I am, doing extreme sports but too afraid to speak into a microphone.

I talk a ton, and I usually find myself spouting stories off when in small groups of friends. But the second I need to make a remotely professional presentation that requires me to act intelligent and functional, I turn into a giggly, twitchy idiot who talks far too fast for anyone to gather anything besides the rampant nervousness woven into my unintelligible words. I avoid making presentations like the plague.

This leads into my fears that have me completely stuck right now. It’s more than public speaking, it’s putting myself out in front of people to be judged.

I’ve tossed around a bunch of different ideas for how I’d be able to independently make money and not have to be a waitress. But they all require me to step out of my comfort zone. I’ll need to put myself out there in the way that my instincts say “No, no, no thanks, nope.”

So I’m afraid. And I’m stuck. And I keep getting waitressing jobs instead of trying something because what if I fail OH NO the horror.

Suck it up, Lindsey.

That’s what I try to tell myself. But it’s so easy to stay afraid. It might take a little longer to stop…

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Overcoming Fear and Doing What You Want to Do

posted 10th March 2010    Written by: Heather Rae    CATEGORY: All Posts, Heather Rae, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2

I’m a worrier.  I worry about everything.  Really.

Tell me you have a dentist appointment next Tuesday at 2PM, and I’ll worry about it for you.  Who knows what would happen if I didn’t take on this duty? I wouldn’t want you to miss your appointment or anything.

So, as I think of my greatest challenge on this journey of mine, I could easily say that it’s my worrying.  Seriously, I’ve got to find a way to stop it already.

Of course, if I said that, I’d know it wasn’t true.  Well, not entirely.  Let me dig a little deeper.

What’s got me so anxious all the time?  Like — why does it matter if the bed isn’t made to my exact specifications each morning, if my bank account drops below some mythical minimum, if I’m not absolutely-exactly-precisely perfect at everything I do?  I could go on.  Perhaps I could impress you with my single handed ability to turn a tiny pebble into a boulder.

But I digress.  What I’m trying to get at is — why is it that I worry so much about everything?

And here’s where I get really honest with you.  This is the root of the root:  FEAR.

I don’t worry because it’s fun.  Or because it’s something to do and I’m just so incredibly bored that I need something useless to take up my time.  I worry because I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of failing.

With that confession, I’m not sure what else to say.  It’s one thing to pin-point the problem.  It’s an entirely different beast to actually do something about it.

And here’s the thing about fear.  It’s hard to overcome.

I think the best advice I can give myself, or anyone else for that matter, is simply to act.  Don’t let fear stop you from taking action, from doing what you most love, from doing what you dream about.

Take a deep breath, and look that fear in the eyes.  Tell your fear that it doesn’t win — not this time.  Then do exactly what it is you want, even though you’re afraid.

The only way I’ve ever succeeded at dealing with fear is by facing it.  Facing my fear doesn’t take the fear away.  It doesn’t magically make me confident or make me believe in my own unending powers. (Oh, how I wish it did.)  It does, however, help me to realize that fear should not be debilitating.

It helps me to see that I can do what I want and even be successful, in spite of fear.

Overcoming fear to experience a success, no matter how tiny, increases your self efficacy — your belief in yourself and your ability to accomplish the things you want.  The more you believe in yourself, the more you’ll be willing to face those fears, to take chances on the things that matter most to you.

So in the spirit overcoming fear, here’s my mantra for the week:

  1. In spite of fear, I choose to be authentically me.
  2. In spite of fear, I choose to share my writing with the world.
  3. In spite of fear, I choose to book that month-long, solo trip to Peru.
  4. In spite of fear, I choose to love.

What do you choose to do, in spite of fear?

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