I always feel primed for flight. When I think about where I want to go in my career, my only obstacle seems to be the teetering I do on the edge. I’ve always grabbed life by the balls. It’s scary to have your heart weighed and validated by people who have never met you. So I stop at the edge. Because once I put myself out there, I’m out there.
I’m scared of the thing I’ve done longer than anything. I’ve always written. People have always enjoyed it. I’m not worried about not being deemed “good.” I’m worried about resting on my laurels and becoming pedestrian. This is the thing I’m meant to do. What if I fuck it up? What if after all these years, I get lazy and become another “almost was?” I can’t really bear the thought.
And I feel just a little isolated. I almost feel guilty about it, because I have great friends who are always kind and encouraging. Seriously, my people are phenomenal. But what if I want to roll over and be reassured without having to dial a number or email someone? For me to even admit that, as a woman, is all but viewed as a crime in 2011. Arguably, our society has never been more advanced than it is at this moment; but the ache to lay in a tangle of limbs and secrets is treated like a crime.
Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up and remember that I can do this. I’ll remember that I’ve always done this. I’ve faced losing my mother, a divorce, and a hurricane and never gave up. My friends will read my blog and encourage me. I’ll brush it off as being emo, and tell some joke that helps people remember that I’m still pragmatic and pulled together. I’m working on a few projects,which hold amazing potential. No matter what has happened, I’ve never given up, and in the back of my mind, I know that will take me…somewhere. I don’t need to be a star – just appreciated and respected. Tomorrow, I’ll remember that. Tonight though, I’m just wishing for the luxury of vulnerability. One day the universe will decide I deserve it.