trying to write feels like death.
letting it just come feels like breath.
but what if i want to improve my writing.
all the people say sit and force yourself.
i'm not actually a fan of forcing myself to do things i don't feel.
so what happens now.
force myself to do the thing i'm not feeling.
or force myself to do the thing that makes me feel alive somehow.
in some weird 2019 way.
today i'm feeling all sorts of weird.
i'm on a trip with douglas.
he works here in cleveland.
last week we brought our babies with us.
this week its just us.
and really just me.
because he'll be working all day.
and trying to come down from the normal stay at home mom life is weird + hard.
because i'm used to having so many things that "need" to be done.
a home that reminds me that i'm no joanna gaines.
children who are just freaking amazing but also they're selfish human beings.
they make messes.
they blame others for why they chose to do what they did.
our home is great and a lot of work.
so coming down to this version of me.
whoever she is.
and whoever she's supposed to be.
to just be.
that is hard.
because without the running to do list.
and the running errands.
and the quick bombarding inner critic of thoughts.
there's me.
somewhere deep down.
the me.
but shes not separate from mom.
i am me here and i am me there.
i don't have to be lost.
the most me i can be is wife me.
and mom me.
and neighbor me.
and taxi me.
i didn't lose me when i had babies.
i found me.
letting it just come feels like breath.
but what if i want to improve my writing.
all the people say sit and force yourself.
i'm not actually a fan of forcing myself to do things i don't feel.
so what happens now.
force myself to do the thing i'm not feeling.
or force myself to do the thing that makes me feel alive somehow.
in some weird 2019 way.
today i'm feeling all sorts of weird.
i'm on a trip with douglas.
he works here in cleveland.
last week we brought our babies with us.
this week its just us.
and really just me.
because he'll be working all day.
and trying to come down from the normal stay at home mom life is weird + hard.
because i'm used to having so many things that "need" to be done.
a home that reminds me that i'm no joanna gaines.
children who are just freaking amazing but also they're selfish human beings.
they make messes.
they blame others for why they chose to do what they did.
our home is great and a lot of work.
so coming down to this version of me.
whoever she is.
and whoever she's supposed to be.
to just be.
that is hard.
because without the running to do list.
and the running errands.
and the quick bombarding inner critic of thoughts.
there's me.
somewhere deep down.
the me.
but shes not separate from mom.
i am me here and i am me there.
i don't have to be lost.
the most me i can be is wife me.
and mom me.
and neighbor me.
and taxi me.
i didn't lose me when i had babies.
i found me.
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