Tag Archives: normal

~Being You~

This is probably redundant.  And you probably do not need a reminder, but I do daily.  So now you’re stuck with my own reminder.  Ha.

I get trapped often by the interwebs world.

“Hi, My name is Emily, and I compare myself to other bloggers/writers.”  There, I said it.

I have my moments when I read a blog written by a mom of 8 perfect kids with the perfect house with white picket fences and Better Homes and Garden rooms and gardens, the perfect husband who fights super villans at night, makes uber bucks and builds beautiful barns and bathrooms on the weekend, she does perfect crafts and sells them on etsy, she runs a church on Sundays, has two kids who are Doctors that can cure every disease while working in a hut in Africa, she cooks better than everyone on tv, has a doctorate, and just wrote her 5th best-selling book.  

I hate her, and she makes me hate me. 

The self-pity then spins you into reaching for things that just aren’t you.  You strive to be just like someone else and lie to yourself the whole damn time.  You hide your own talents to be more, to be better, to be perfect.  And all you do is perfect your own flaws.  And then you break down.  And then the hate sizzles, bubbles and boils over. 

And you find your self drowning in coffee at your keyboard, looking for someone else to tell you how to be a better you.  Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Maybe it’s just me.

I doubt it.

The problem is that in emulating someone else you hide your own talents. 

I’ve been blogging, journaling and “writing” for years.  I’ve had a few supporters who repeatedly suggest that I push the envelope, that I have something there and that I’m missing out on a oppurtunity.  Naturally I didn’t get it, and tried to do what I thought they were telling me… I tried to do what others did.  I tried a homemaking type of blog… FLOP.  Okay so then I tried focussing on politics… FLOP.  Fine, how about witty stuff… FLOP.  Well, I must just be a complete failure then because that’s what the masses of blogging queens do!  Those supporters MUST be idiots.  THEY LIED!

But because I never learned, I tried to dip my toes into E-Books.  I thought I was being all smart and stuff and picked the topic of Dog Training, something I know tons about.  feverishly I typed away.  Then I shared it with a few close people.  FLIP, FLOP, FLIPPITY FLOP.  What the HELL!?! 

Oh and then, then my husband really ticked me off, “This reads too much like a story, a novel.  This isn’t your thing.”  Like it’s my fault if he doesn’t get the flow.  *insert 3 bottles of a wine induced pity party*  And he wrapped it up with something along the lines of how I should write cards for Hallmark.  I might have programmed a few lawyers’ phone numbers into my phone that night.  That was NOT what I wanted to hear.

Why is it so hard to find my niche out there when there are millions of people succeeding so well at it?!

Probably because I am not them, and I had my mind-set on following their footsteps, instead of my own.

It’s difficult, having dreams similar to those around you.  Seeing them succeed, seeing them doing what you want to do.  Logically you think you have to do it like them, because it worked for them.  That must be the one and only path to happiness and success!

It only brings self-pity and hatred.

And the first step to recovery is to stop perfecting your flaws.  And to do that you have to discover your talents.  PS.  You have to discover them, they can’t be pointed out.  I don’t know why that is, but for some reason you can’t own something that someone else gives you, you just never trust it.  At least that’s the case for me.

But how do own your talents?  How do you accept them without thinking you’re full of it, without thinking that you’re patting your own back over a huge pile of crap?  I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.

Then a friend asked me a very tricky question, I wanted to poke her in the eye with a stale cheeto for being so hokey, but there’s a lot of depth in what she asked.  Paraphrasing she asked,

Give yourself one compliment about your writing.

Immediately I thought, “Hell she’s going to laugh at whatever I come up with.  She’s sooooo going to judge me on this one!  Who am I to compliment myself!?!”

So pressed with time and the threat of her reaching through my computer screen to choke me I quickly scanned my mind for those times I actually felt “successful” at what I loved to do.  The answer flooded my mind, “Emotions”.

My writing is emotional.  Wait, do you feel it?  There it is, peeking out of the depths of self loathing… I might have a knack at making my readers feel emotions.  Maybe, I don’t want to get too carried away.

And you know what?  As I sit here this morning, writing a novel of a post, it’s easy to connect the dots, and I’m not afraid to give my self a tiny pat on the back.  My talent is not writing witty blogs, and that’s okay.  I have a talent for telling a story.  I have a knack for going on and on in great length to get my emotions out.  And there’s actually people out there who feel a connection in what I have to say.  And I’m not afraid to own it.

I’m pretty sure that that’s what my husband ment when he suggested Hallmark as a career.  It wasn’t an insult, it was his way of saying “you might suck at writing how-to’s and such, but you really do have something with this mushy crap you write, but I’m a man and can’t say it that way.” 

And it’s probably why my other blog that’s all from nights of spilling out emotions on a touchy subject has gotten remarkable response and views, while my others get zilch. 

And it just might be what people have been trying to tell me all along.

And I could be wrong about it all. 

But that’s not the point. 

The point is putting yourself out there without the goal of someone else’s success.  The point is to find your own talents and to own them, to accept them.  To know who you are, and to not blur the lines.  Don’t be afraid of encouraging yourself without worrying what others will think. 

Life happens in between the edits.

 

 

 

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The Incredible Ordinary Girl

I find it hilarious that people go cross-eyed when they peek into my life.  Apparently it’s odd to have my lifestyle… one that I had assumed was quite, well ordinary.

Of course there’s the epic battle over women’s role in society and how being a stay at home mom is downgrading or heroic.  I don’t care too much about any of that, I just do what works for us.  Meaning I would have to pay to go to work.  Case closed. 

I enjoy most domestic things.  That’s right, I enjoy them… most of them.  I have taught myself how to crochet, knit and sew.  I can crochet a boggle, cable knit and make curtains… if I so choose.  And I like it.  And yes at least once a week my house might smell like fresh-baked something or another that did not come from a box.  And if someone would put away all the junk around here and the laundry I actually like to clean too.  And just in case the thought crossed your mind… that doesn’t make me old-fashioned or submissive… it makes me creative, resourceful, happy and proud. 

And we all know that I love my politics.  I love clearheaded intelligent debates.  I love the facts and I like a challenge.  Glen Beck is my hero, and Oprah is the anti-christ.  *Gasps*  I said Glen Beck.  Yup, I did.  Beck, Rush, Fox.  We can clarify my sanity or insanity later.

I have faith.  Strong faith.  I have both Sublime, Bif Naked and Bible readings on my I-Pod.  I believe in showing my faith and not preaching it unless I’m asked.  I believe in living like Jesus, and loving like him… Translation I don’t judge because I’m not God.  I don’t bible bash because I want you to ask me questions of your own free will instead of sending you running to the hills.  This all goes hand in hand with politics.  Clear, level-headed debates.  ‘Nuff said there.

I am a professional dog trainer by trade.  I went to a bona-fide, certified school, with a bona-fide humongous student loan and learned everything you could ever want to know about dogs and more.  Police, military, service, pets… I can train them all.  And I’m still paying on that student loan, 5 years later, so I don’t give out free advice unless I love you… or your dog.

Talking about dogs, I have 3.  A German Shepherd, a Belgian Malinois and an Australian Cattle Dog (aka Blue Heeler).  I won’t bore you with their credentials.  I also have a goat.  Apparently that’s odd.  My goat rocks, and you should all be jealous of her awesomeness.  She cuts the grass, weeds the jungle, poops instant fertilizer and takes naps on my deck.  She loves me and hates anything else that breathes, and I’m okay with that.  We have other animals too, lots of them… but this is a blog and not a book.

I love, love, love to write.  And I punish myself yearly in NaNoWriMo to crank out a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.  I have successfully conquered the challenge all three years that I have signed up.  Those books are carefully hidden away in various umb drives, and most likely will never ever again see the light of day.  I love to write but I am not a writer.

To me this is all ordinary.  Chasing kids, taming goats, gardening in a jungle, bread baking, novel plots spinning in my head, knitting giant afghans of cable doom.  You want to hear odd?  Ask me about Alabama, Martini Bars, Hamburgers, Devil Woods, working at a dog kennel and horseback riding with a crazy rich guy…