What do I mean by Saddle Up?
Let me explain where I was by going back to how I got here.
The questions started trickling in; this time with more weight. That intensive weight when you are scared to death.
What was happening to me? How did I end up in this place again? Where had my boundaries gone? Where were my goals?
I felt cold and vulnerable. The way you do when you’ve been stripped of your clothes in a winter storm.
I could not find the power to remain in my own environment.
In its own capacity my chest felt tight.
After some research, I learned my tight chest was caused by anxiety. A problem reserved for weak people I always thought.
There is nothing like experiencing something yourself to knock you off high horse.
Then there was my family…
I had no idea what was causing my eversion to my dependents. None the less, my children were starting to look like threats. One child a match, the other a striking plate. Each quarrel causing more sparks then I felt comfortable standing next to.
Me, the gas.
Trying to push them back into their own spaces, every question was met with anger. I was running on fumes and keeping everyone civil was getting harder and harder.
When did life get so hard?
I needed an escape… a ride out of here.
To Saddle Up!
Maybe I gave up after the fourth baby, or the second mortgage, or the mounting credit card debt. Maybe it was the school loans or never ending and unexpected maintenance expenses.
I was running out of lane and no one was offering to help. And when I say no one, I mean NO ONE!
I was fighting my son’s excessive need for speed (tickets), unpredictable roommates, and endless reasons he needed more help monetarily. My elderly mothers dependance on me, more than herself, was becoming increasingly irritating. My husbands parents and my fathers passing. Siblings fighting over money and possessions. My husband trying to make me not feel what I felt because, he was scared to feel what he felt. No real friends. Three elementary children who would not give me a moments peace.
Children that would walk right past their father and ask me for a drink even if my eyes had fallen clean out of my head. Even if they could get it themselves.
I felt compounded guilt wanting to escape them and the day-in and day-out tasks of having a family. Not to mention the expected vacations and name brand wardrobes. The pets. Embarrassing cousins on Facebook ranting about things you could not even believe fell in your family line. And so on and so on.
Even if I saw a saddle, I would not have had the energy to saddle up.
Life had become UNBEARABLE.
Worse then that, I was tired of fighting.
Looking back, I think I was tired of being afraid.
Either way, had that proverbial saddle showed up I imagine I would have tried to saddle up … and rode right the fuck out of there.
Why I couldn’t see that saddle? Desperation can make you blind. For example, thinking money would set me free when overlooking the worry of it help me prisoner.
I could not see a way out and resented my husbands weight gain or inability to admit he wanted hair on his head and not his body.
All of the none expression was killing me. No dreams, time. joy.
We were dying.
What was I going to do?
My first order of business to stop looking at them quick, fast, and in a hurry.
I hated them just as much as I hated myself.
The person I vowed to love forever was becoming a distant memory. We had all let each other down.
It was time to pull up my boot straps. Time to stop depending on them for what would make me happy.
It was time to saddle up.
I wasn’t even sure what would make me happy.
Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was correct about what was making me unhappy.
So, I sat down and created a list.
T What I feared most was one, two and three.
- I wanted to be free to explore my own dreams and aspirations without consequence. Not the kind of consequence you get from getting on with your life, but the vengeful kind that breaks you, like domestic violence and extra martial affairs. I realized I had been having and raising children my entire adult life. My last child born in my late 30s, moments after my oldest graduated high school. What was to be the onset of retirement was the beginning of starting over.
- Then I admitted I resented it.
I wanted my own independence, my own thing.
I wanted a career.
Not just any career, but one I loved. One I looked forward to. A responsibility I would meet with anticipation. Frustrated by past experiences, I knew I was through with the boss that liked to dominate me with administrative tasks or less then adequate accomplishments to keep his ego afloat. But rather, a business that thrived on empowering me, and others, to pursue what mattered most to them.
I wanted to grow a business that was busting at the seams as I tried to keep up with its growth. I wanted the kind of job my kids tagged along to and were happy to hang out for the day. The kind of job that my employees loved to tag along to too.
Finally, I finished the short list.
I finally wanted to saddle up.
Really, I wanted a new vision of me, not just a new version. I wanted a life fueled by wild ambition and strong bonds.
It took some time to get real about what scared me; it was very freeing.
Although the children were still home, but now in school, I had some “me-time”. I was not going to waste it.
I made a second list.
It was time to change my schedule and my habits.
I started small, incorporating an exercise routine three times a week. Walking began to open my mind up and I didn’t share it with anyone.
I answered emails twice daily: once in the morning, and then again in the afternoon.
I did not answer the phone unless it was an emergency.
I did not volunteer at the school and avoided being sucked into any PTO or homeroom drama.
I started to network with other writers. Writers that inspired me to be more.
Beginning to ignore my mother and her perceived dependencies.
My oldest son was put on notice that he must begin to fend for himself.
Then, I worked countless hours eliminating money blocks and freeing myself of being found a fraud if I did succeed.
One day I realized, I had reached my end., exhausted.
It turned out to be my bottom. My turning point. The point where you just know you cannot go a step further, but you also know you have to take the next step. I reached my turning point.
I reached the point I had to saddle up and it turned out to be the best dead end I ever found myself on.
Rewrite the script if you are feeling hopeless.
Find that flame that lights you up like the forth of July.
Push through your fears.
Accept your fears.
Face your fears.
Then, saddle up.
Is your road running out of lane? If your saying passively, with doubt or meakness, “no”, that is definitely a yes! It is time to find a new lane. One that is big enough for YOU!
Drive as fast and hard as you can! Your life and your dreams depend on it.
Feeling overwhelmed? Check out our post on Getting it ALL done.