Rah Rah! Go, Us!

I'm in the mood to do some cheerleading. (Funny, because I was never an actual cheerleader - I went to an all-girls high school and the college I attended didn't focus much on sports back then. This was waaaaaay back in the day.)

But as I get older, I find that as the holiday flurry ramps up, as the year winds down - and the end of NaNo looms large! - we sometimes lose sight of all the creativity and imagination and passion that suffused our year. Instead, we focus on all that we didn't do, all that we didn't accomplish. We feel like failures, losers.

The cheerleading part is coming, I promise!

At the holiday party, no one asks about our recently published work. During Thanksgiving dinner, Uncle Duke thinks the weather is far more interesting than our dreams. Over Christmas eggnog, Aunt Lola declares that writing is so easy - take a class, get an agent, a book deal, make some money. She doesn't care to know what we're talking about - rejection letters? Critique groups? Improving our craft? Pfft.

Yes, okay, okay. Here - finally! - are the words of wisdom I want to share -

"Self doubt. 

Imposter syndrome. 

Modesty that borders on self-deprecation. . . . 

You guys, this has got to stop. 

We have to stop talking down about ourselves 

just because we're afraid that others might beat us to it. 

We have to start celebrating our successes and strengths 

even though we still have failures and flaws. 

We have to be unabashedly awesome in all the ways that we are. 

We don't owe anyone a disclaimer for believing in ourselves. . . .

Because you are amazing, and you can do this." 

(Annie Neugebauer)

Let's not let anyone else tell us different.

Let's not let anyone else make us think otherwise.

Go, us!

(Pfft. Who needs pom-poms?)

IWSG: It's All in the Attitude

For More Information

In October's IWSG post, I mentioned being anxious about participating in my first ever 5K. I asked for advice and encouragement, and you all stepped up and cheered me on so much and so loudly, I felt like I could actually hear you all as I ran (and that was even over my whining and desperate gasping for air!) Thank you all so much! I appreciate it more than you know.

The end results were not as good as I'd hoped. I didn't run nearly as much of it as I wanted, and it was a lot harder than I'd thought. But I finished the entire thing - something I wouldn't have been able to do in recent years - so I'm counting it as a win. 

Do you know what else I'm counting as a win? The fact that I'm still exercising, still training. I even signed up for another 5K (that sound you hear is the "dreadmill" cackling maniacally - bwahaha!) I'm not giving up - on losing weight, on writing, on dreams.  

Don't you give up either. Whatever it is you're working on - your health, NaNo, learning something new, dealing with a difficult situation - Keep. Going. 

I am. You can, too.

*****

Participant Medal and T-Shirt from the 5K

A Gift from My Husband

When "Love Bugs" Attack

I participated in my second organized bike ride for charity the other day. My husband and I rode the 15 mile route. (He could've done one of the longer ones - 35 or 65 miles - but, good man that he is, he stuck with me.)

We rode through quiet streets and down near the water. We stopped and drank Gatorade and nibbled small triangles of peanut butter sandwiches. I was doing great - if I do say so myself. And I did say so, more than once, to my husband. And, see, this is where I should've kept my big mouth shut because I jinxed myself. I hit the wall. (Not literally, although if there was one nearby, I probably would have.)

It was my own fault really. I had kept my mouth closed for most of the ride - much to my husband's surprise and delight - but only because I didn't want any love bugs* to enter my mouth and get caught in my teeth. I don't ride that fast but those bugs were everywhere. Until they weren't. And that's when I opened my mouth and instead of swallowing a love bug, I swallowed my pride.

My legs all of a sudden went as heavy as two cement casts. The nice breeze turned into a head wind. An 80 year old man rode by me. And waved. I wanted to stop and walk my bike the last couple of miles. I wanted to give up. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do things that are hard for me? Bike riding. Writing. Etc.

Because that's how we learn and grow and change. Because that's how we get better and be better. I could've just written a check to the charity but then I would've missed out on hearing my husband cheer me on and tell me how proud he was of me. I would've missed joining the other riders as we turned the corner and saw the finish line. I would've missed out on standing with my husband, our feet in the cool water lapping at the sand, basking in the sun and in a sense of a challenge set and conquered.     

The same is true with writing. My husband encourages me, I'm part of a group of wonderful writers from all over who are "turning the corner and seeing the finish line", and every one of my published stories brings me a sense of accomplishment.

So, when obstacles or rejections hit us in the face those like love bugs, when they get stuck in our teeth and we can't seem to spit them out fast enough, remember this:  every time we hit a wall, it means we're doing something, we're trying, we're challenging ourselves. And I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be hitting that wall than just sitting there, staring at it.

[*For those of you who don't know what love bugs are, here's a link for you. Pictures and everything.]

A Writer's Best Friend

Well, this writer's best friend is her husband.  Here's a bit from the About Me section of my website -   

"...Sometimes my speech is like my handwriting - indecipherable. But my husband is both interpreter and translator. No one encourages me and believes in me like he does. Even when I want to stop believing in myself, he won’t let me. He listens to me moan, watches me mope, and cooks me lots of pasta but then he gently guides me back to my desk and sits me down, knowing strongly enough for both of us that the characters will speak, the scenes will set, and the words will come." 

The thing is, he not only supports and encourages my creativity, but he's also creative in his own right.  He's quick with the one liners, and he comes up with puns that make me groan with laughter.  When I'm stuck searching for a title, he usually saves the day.  He's my first reader - he tells me when something works for him and when it doesn't.  He's tough and honest.  He won't tell me something is good if it isn't.  He wants me to be the best writer I can be, the best me I can be.  Isn't that what a best friend is for?

I know it's only a small post on a small blog but the words and the feelings behind them are huge.  Today I celebrate my husband's creativity and his role in mine.  I couldn't do any of this without him.