You Can't Take It With You

I realized recently that I've lost a few friends on Facebook. I'm pretty sure this is because of things I've written on my blog. Initially I was excited because I've always heard you haven't "arrived" until you've offended someone via your blog. The other part of me was saddened and worried by it.

My blog is a mixed bag sprinkled with some fiction and non-fiction, but even my fiction is loosely based in some sort of reality. I've blogged about people in my life. Those people may not have appreciated what I had to say, despite it being the truth. While I can certainly understand that, I haven't painted anyone in an unkind light. Yet, these are my memories, my perspectives, and my side of the story. You'll never know the other side. Par for the course.

But you know what? I had to say it. I had to write it. I'm a writer and this is my truth. This blog is my creative space. I'm not here to be Ms. Nicey Nancy and try to make everyone worship me--I'm here to write because I must. It's what I do. It's who I am. As Allison Nazarian says in this post,

Stop trying to be so damn nice. Nice is a bullshit excuse. First of all, you are already nice without trying. Second, trying to be nice all the time becomes a full-time job and a full-time job means you don’t have time for most anything else. People won’t like you sometimes, and that’s ok. The more you speak your truth, the more some people will turn away. Not everyone wants to or is ready to hear it or face theirs. They may not like the changes they perceive in you. And that is not your problem. Meanwhile, the more this happens, the more those who DO resonate with what you have to say will start to show up. And they won’t expect that Splenda-sweet nice chick in your place.

They expect you. The real you.

Last week I told my daughters for the first time, "Mommy is a writer," and they looked at me with furrowed brows. Not sure why I never told them before, but they've always known Daddy is a surgeon. Now they know about the real me, too.

The people I've written about? Names have been changed, characteristics altered....events/ circumstances? Not so much. If I've offended, I have to just let go. Say goodbye. I can't carry that weight with me into the new year, there's too much at stake. If you don't like me, if you don't like what I write? There's a sting, but it's quick and then it's over. I can't carry the heaviness with me, a feeling of fault. I've done nothing wrong by simply speaking my truths.

The lesson here? Not everyone is gonna love me. And I'm learning to be okay with that.

Jump.

At first I thought I was free falling, Tom Petty style. But I'm too Type A for that.

I realized I'm jumping headlong. I'm in the middle of a daring, deliberate, exciting, exuberant leap--into 2011. In my OCD way, I've thought about it long & hard but it's time to shit or get off the pot  so it's time I make a conscious JUMP. Like this one, only perhaps slightly less graceful.



I'm attending my first bona fide writing/blogging conference, Blissdom, in Nashville next month. I have two kick-ass roommates, both Louisiana gals: @elainea & @birdonthestreet. Initially I was on the fence about it, but while at lunch with my mom and Katy (@birdonthestreet), there was some serious arm twisting going on the lightbulb went off. And The Voice said:

What are you waiting for?

Now is your time. It's your turn.

Just go for it, you deserve this. You need this.

This will help you start writing your story. It's your time.

A lot of this also stems from the incredible book I just finished, Love Your Mess, by @AllisonNazarian. I'm embracing myself as I am, while at the same time taking steps toward a new me, a me who is comfortable in her own skin. I. LOVE. MY. MESS. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, people.


What are you jumping into for 2011? It's okay to be scared.

It Isn't Really About the Cupcakes.

In honor of the girls' fifth birthday this week, I'm bringing cupcakes to school for them to share with their classmates.

• Today's cupcakes are not homemade. I'm loving my mess, Allison Nazarian style.
• Last year, said cupcakes were homemade.
• For their class Halloween party in October, they were also homemade.
• Despite this, I will not allow myself to feel guilty. It's stupid.
• The kids won't even know the freakin' difference.
• If spending a few bucks at a local bakery makes my life easier, so be it.
• I'm a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom), and I don't get paid, but I sure work a helluva lot.
• The last month has been insanely busy. Homemade cupcakes aren't worth my sanity.
• This God-forsaken cupcake business? I'm so over it.

Besides, like Sara over at Saving For Someday said yesterday? I don't want to set the bar too high for the other moms by bringing homemade cupcakes.

How are you shedding the need to be perfect today?

I'm Loving My Mess--Allison Nazarian Style.

I've been busy, people. Busy delving into this incredible new book by Allison Nazarian, whom I had the pleasure and privilege of meeting in person back in September at CIP. (Jealous? I met a real, live, published writer and she autographed my copy!). It's ridiculously perfect for me. First off, just look at the title & cover:

Love Your Mess.

Nazarian writes about life being messy. Not literally messy, like the growing piles of paperwork, lists and bills littering my kitchen counter. Messy in the sense of emotionally, mentally and logistically. How real is your life, she asks? Because the conclusion she draws is that the more real we become, the messier life is. It just is. You know, like you can't have the chicken without the egg. Or which came first, the chicken or the egg? I forget how it goes. But you know what I mean.

"Messiness is a by-product of a life well-lived. It's not something to be avoided or ignored or falsely neatened up. And, in fact (get this), it is something you want. That you should strive for. That you should be thankful for.
Because the truth is this: No messiness means no lessons, no loving with abandon, no real living out loud." (p. 15)

Something else Allison writes about that really resonates with me is The Voice. The Voice says things like, "Of course you aren't getting anything done today...you are disorganized/unfocused/without purpose."

Or The Voice says, "Your kids are fighting because you are the world's worst Mother. Duh."

And it might even go so far as this, "You say writing is your top priority but you never get to it. Maybe you aren't really meant to be a writer. And even if you are a decent writer, you aren't making any money from writing. Stands to reason it's pretty worthless. Maybe you are, too?" (pp. 19-20)

I can't begin to describe how much I relate to all of this, these feelings. The Voice speaks to me all day every day. It rarely says anything positive. Here are some snippets of My Voice:

• You fancy yourself a writer, eh? But what do you write, exactly? A stupid blog?
• You've been saying for years that you want to write a book. Maybe you'll never really do it. And even if you do, who the heck is gonna publish that shit, let alone read it?
• You're a horrible mother. Those twins steamroll you. Clearly they're wearing the pants.
• You totally suck in the kitchen. You can't even make your own pie crusts.
• Your laundry room is a wreck. Why can't you ever clean it up? And that dusty thing in the cabinet? It's called an iron. Use it once in a while, mmm'kay?
• You're a bad wife. Being tired all the time is no excuse.
• You're going on a girls' trip to Vegas? You don't deserve to do that. You should skip it.
• Why are you wearing your pajamas during the daytime? And when was your last shower?

I'm giving The Voice the finger. I'm well aware my life is messy. But it's a good thing. Now I just need to learn to embrace it, accept it, and snuggle up on the couch with it. Because it's part of what makes me uniquely me. And as for my many messes? If you're a regular reader, you know about most of them. My gay dad, my struggles with my body image, bullies, and two short people who are running the show here when I should be. Because I'm the mom. Well, at the very least, I'm gonna write a damn good book about my messes. I mean, I'm not literally stealing Allison's idea, I just mean I'm going to write about the stuff that makes up my messy life. And YOU are going to buy a copy. Even if it's 20 years from now it better not take me that long, God damn it.

This book is so good I'm making flashcards to tape up all over my bathroom mirror, fridge, and on the inside of my car with quotes from it. I also think Allison should make an audio version so I can listen to her affirmations and wisdom while I'm driving my mom-mobile (hint, hint). Reading about her mess is especially comforting because she is a published writer who's experienced a similar kind of muckety muck that I have. And she's not afraid to admit it. Did I mention she autographed my copy? Which means I'm not alone, and it also gives me the courage to be more open about my messes. Which I think I have been, especially lately, on my blog.

You will love this book. You will fall in love with Allison just as I have. She's candid, bright, and she's helping me learn how to live.


Ergo:
I'm going to Vegas, baby. I deserve it.

Do you have The Voice in your head? What does it say to you?
Wanna read more? Go here and buy Allison's kick-ass book.