Post #14: Showing up means this

I often have a ton of self-judgment floating around in my head on any given day, so sometimes it makes it hard to move forward. Perfectionism paralyzes me. 

The reality is, I’m fine where I am.

It’s hard because I look around and see other entrepreneurs, other activists, other women, looking so more put together, graceful, confident and free. And I want that. And I feel like I am so far off.

I know these blogs must feel like such a downer.  I want to say sorry, but I warned you. I told you this was going to be a work in progress and that you were coming along for the ride!

Today I am working from Cup & Saucer on Hawthorne, my favorite Thursday haunt. It’s V’s day off and he gets the house to himself. It’s rare that he has that. I like this place because they play funky music, it’s never crowded and I can sit there for hours eating my Lucky Scramble. Pretty cool. And it’s nice to get out of the house. I am thinking I need more stimulation from other people during the day, to be out of the house where I feel so much responsibility and burrowed away. 

Showing up means coming to this every day and exposing myself. I used to write. I used to write a lot. I used to enjoy it and liked playing with words. The last several years I’ve lost my voice in this way. It feels clunky and censored. I am actively playing with how I can change this. Notice I didn’t say “working” – that’s a suggestion from my therapist, ha. 

I got some headshots done and they were hard to look at. My, was awesome. I loved her. She made me feel so comfortable and like I had star quality.  The evidence is in my facial expressions!

I look happy here, don’t I?
I didn’t even know I could do this with my face.

Did I make the best clothing choices in the photos? Eh. Probably not.

Am I continuously awkward at this public persona thing, but do I have things that I want to offer to the world? Yes.

Will I ever get “headshots” again? No.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Am I gonna explore the discomfort I feel because I don’t like the way those photos look? It’s pretty deep within me. What does it mean when you can’t even look at yourself in a picture?

These are the things that I am thinking about. I guess it’s OK to write about it here.



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