The Voice of an Undeveloped Adult

This is my 75th blog, and I am a little stuck.

I am very comfortable with my decision to take the blog in a different direction, but now I don't know what to write about.  Do I write about my favorite foods?  Hair care products?  Buying new tires?  Obviously, I'm not going to write about the mundane activities of my day (that's what Facebook updates are for) but now that I'm not solely writing about relationships, what do I write about?

Feeling a little lost because I'm not writing about relationships is a reflection of my life.  Now that my world doesn't revolve around a relationship (finding one, keeping one or getting over one) I don't know what to do with all this energy.  I have always understood and believed in what I was writing - I knew that I had to be more than the relationships I was in, and I knew that my energy had to be focused on me and not anyone else, but I had no idea how to make it happen.  Without even realizing, I became stronger - and I became a whole person regardless of my relationship status.  As sad as I was that things didn't work out with F., I didn't get stuck in the sadness.  I didn't take to my bed or fall apart.  I let myself feel sad (or angry) when I need to and then I keep my day moving (those feelings still pop up from time to time).  I worked at the flower shop the week leading up to Mother's Day, went to a concert, played a few gigs, hosted my monthly poetry night, shared meals with friends, and even took a few day trips.  Wallowing is not an option because I am more than the relationship.  I always have been - it was just hard to see it.

I also attended the National Latino Writers Conference last week.  I feel like a million doors have been opened in my brain.  I have always wanted to be a writer but I had no idea how to go about taking my writing to the next level.  The NLWC gave me a lot of good information and inspiration to begin editing my work and getting it ready to publish.   I connected with other writers and had my work read and critiqued by published writers and authors.  The end result was a feeling of being focused in a way I've never been before.  Going into the conference, however, I was completely terrified.  I was convinced that they (the scary, faceless they) would take one look at my manuscript and tell me to leave.  I don't think I'm a bad writer, nor do I think anyone at the conference would be mean-spirited enough to do something like that, but I convinced myself that I wasn't good enough to be there.  There was a voice inside that told me to go home, burn my poetry books and only return when I am worthy.

Sent to me by my friend R.  

I've written about this voice before.  It's the same voice that tells me I don't deserve love, I don't deserve friends and I most certainly don't deserve success.  Sometimes the voice sounds like my own voice, sometimes it sounds like the harsh tones of voices I've heard throughout my life.  I used to say it was just fear talking, but more and more, I'm learning that fear is just a by-product of those voices.

Fear has lived with me for as long as I could remember but I've come to realize that fear just wants to be loved.  Anytime I soothe my fears with love, I find that I can accomplish so much more than I do when I try and fight my fears.  When I make the conscious choice to acknowledge my fear instead of trying to ignore it, I find the most success.  The voice, on the other hand, would much rather that I give fear all the power to keep me silent and stuck.  The voice that was trying to tell me I didn't deserve to be at the NLWC was the same voice I've listened to my whole life and as a result, haven't accomplished a lot of the things I am capable of.

I often feel like an undeveloped adult.

I haven't finished school, I don't have a clear career path, no retirement plan and no property or real estate to speak of.  I don't have great credit nor do I have health insurance.  There are a lot of things I don't have but I'm also the happiest I've ever been in my life.  For the first time, I finally feel like I am paying attention to the Universe and all the messages I've been receiving.  I feel like I understand my body and appreciate it.  I know my capacity to love and I am unafraid to do so.  While I don't have a clear vision for the future, I trust the path that I am headed on.  I have no choice but to move forward, so why not do so confidently?

I don't know when I'll feel developed, or if I ever will.  I know I'll continue to feel happy.  I'll continue to quiet the voices that tell me I won't succeed - or maybe I'll write about them.  Maybe they just want to be heard and understood so that they can finally be put to rest.


Next Time: Love of my Life