Unfortunately, or fortunately, i’m interested in a lot. I dabble. I like writing books (and I’m working on one), I like blogging, I like creating videos… and a ton of other stuff. So, I struggle with consistency because as you can imagine, there’s pretty much no effin’ way to do all the above consistently all the time. Or at least, I haven’t figured out a way to. Let me know if you have? Looking for a friend here.

I’m mostly consistent and I’ve been blogging a long time. I’m no OG Blogger (btw, do you ever kind of wish you were?!), but I’v had my own space online for a long time with a modest following. At the beginning I did intend to have more of an audience, but as time has gone on and other aspirations have become more important, chasing after followers kind of feels like the perfect way to make myself crazy. So, I share when I can, always being authentic and open, and mostly it’s made blogging really fun. I get emails from people who connect with my writing, and that’s so fulfilling, but you know, I’m not running a blogging business. It’s still a fun space for me.

Lately, I’ve been writing my book. I’ve shared before I took a pause because we moved to our home in Bryson City, NC and my grandma died. I won’t tell you any of these are excuses (they’re not), but these big events threw me off and, well, for the better part of 2019 I did zero work on my book. I’ve since been inspired and it’s becoming clear certain events needed to transpire for me to pick this book back up. I simply hadn’t lived some of the experiences that make the book a more complete portrait of my twenties, and more importantly, the events that have led to me discovering me. Well, the me I am currently in my thirties that is. This is a snap shot at best. We’re always evolving, and I know I will continue to change, but this transformation from the twenties to the thirties felt big for me and worth capturing. If nothing else for my own personal trophy.

I always love going through a writing-my-book phase, but it comes hand in hand with less blogging and vlogging. All my creative forces get funneled there and it ultimately means a sacrifice for these creative outlets, which I enjoy and offer me a more immediate sense of satisfaction. I can finish a post and hit live. A book is a LONG ASS process, the least of which is writing (there’s the emotional toll it takes on the author and then the arduous process of publishing, no matter which way you decide, it’s guaranteed a long, tough process). I’m hard wired to crave that sense of accomplishment. I’ve always been this way since I can remember caring about my work. Each day my book is unfinished makes me feel like a failure. Each birthday makes me feel like, dude, you’re in “well into your thirties” territory and this was supposed to be finished… What’s going on? You have zero excuse, you’re not, like, in your twenties. You’re supposed to have your shit together.

And I do. I have a husband, home, mortgage (two!), dog and a job. None of these things are required to be an official adult, of course, but what I’m getting at is people, animals and things depend on me and I don’t let them down. I’m there doing the work and showing up. I guess I haven’t been doing as good a job at showing up for myself.