The week leading to my book launch (which was wondrous) and the week after was rough, for lack of a better word. With tear filled eyes I sent a text to a dear friend and the conversation that followed was very raw, very real.
I spent the next several days reflecting on that conversation and this is what I’ve gathered…
Throughout the last twenty-five years, I’ve accumulated all these pieces.
Pieces passed down genetically, from parents and other members of the family, from the places I lived and the people I surrounded myself with, from the schools I attended and the trips that I took, from the things I read in a book, from the things I saw on tv – a piece from each and every thing.
Eventually, all these fragments began to form this picture and this picture began to provide the guidelines of what my life is supposed to look like.
Yet time and time again I have found that my life looks nothing like what it ‘should.’
Not because my aspirations aren’t attainable. Not for a lack of love and support. Not for a lack of determination or anything else. But because, as Michelle Obama so eloquently said, you cannot have it all at the same time because “that shit doesn’t work.”
That perfect picture is actually an impossible illusion.
An illusion I intend to dive deeper into throughout the next few weeks and I’d love if you’d join this journey with me.