I broke down and cried

  • August


    Sometimes when life is going well, it just feels good to cry and let it all out.

    Since starting the concept for the Mummy G project (July 31st, 2016) my mind has been a tornado. I’ve been thinking up all sorts of ideas and building out the beginnings of the community and website.

    I’ve experienced huge highs, times of stressful overwhelm and exhaustion.

    I want this project so much. I want it to be successful. I want it to help a lot of mummies. And I also want it to be sustainable… which means, it has to make money.

    No matter how much you love your business, at some point it needs to turn a profit or else it won’t survive… unless you are using the model of “start-ups” where you bleed yourself to get an app to be the next trendiest thing (while making no income) and then hope that someone buys it for the 10-year projection that it will have.

    But in the real world… money makes a business grow.

    In my personal life however, I’ve been working for free. When you are self-employed, you work and work and work, and often don’t see a dime. Not because the business doesn’t make money, but that it gets re-invested back in.

    It’s not until it generates a certain income that you can start taking a salary from it.

    And for the last 3 years, I’ve been growing my business. Fortunately I didn’t need a specific business plan, rather my husband has been able to support the two of us.

    But something triggered me.

    As Jon and I were discussing the build out of the site, I was triggered. Originally I thought it was because it felt like he was putting down some of my ideas. But after thinking about the conversation, it was one specific line that made me break down and cry.

    “Your site isn’t making money”

    Now this wasn’t a big revelation. I knew this, but for some reason the context of the conversation made those words sound like,

    “You don’t make any money.”

    “You aren’t contributing.”

    “You aren’t independent.”

    These were clearly not the words coming out of my husband’s mouth, but that’s how I interpreted them.

    I broke down crying because in that moment it felt 100% true. As if it were in my bones that I was a failure and not capable of supporting myself.

    I felt sad, guilty, ashamed and angry… at myself.

    I wasn’t brought up to depend on others.

    My mother was sent off to University at the age of 17 to make sure she had a “back-up plan”. You see, my mom wasn’t raised to work. She was raised to be a house wife.

    And just like her mother (my grandmother), she was expected to cook dinner, clean the house and raise the kids. However, my grandma was in an abusive relationship and she also was not educated. She had no skills and wasn’t employable.

    She was a slave in her own home and it didn’t help that she had several illnesses. But the one thing that consumed her the most was fear.

    She did not want this kind of life for my mother and so prepared her with education. My grandma knew that if my mom was in a bad relationship, education would allow her to get out of it, be independent and provide for herself and her family.

    In not so many words, I felt this lesson from my grandmother and mum.

    I feared being stuck, trapped or a slave to a relationship that wasn’t fulfilling or even pleasant.

    I mean, nobody gets married thinking that their spouse is going to make their life miserable, but sometimes relationships grow in opposite directions and neither side is willing to work on it.

    I get it. Education (and the ability to get a well paying job) was an emergency clause for my mom to use in case of… well, emergency. But more than that, it provided a choice.

    A choice to stay or leave but not be forced.

    We all have a lot preconceived beliefs that are ingrained in our cells. Beliefs from our ancestors that don’t always make rational sense given our particular situation.

    In a world where feminism has taken an ugly turn, women are raised to believe they MUST BE superwomen, instead of having the choice to be superwomen.

    There is a difference.

    If you MUST be able to work a full-time well-paying job, raise your kids, clean the house, be a chauffeur, cook healthy delicious meals and have time for to tend to your husbands need’s, no longer are you empowered.

    That expectation ingrained in girls and women make it seem like a failure if you are unable to DO IT ALL.

    The fact that I sometimes have a hard time seeing my own value without “doing things” is a shame.
    The fact that I feel guilty for not doing more is a pity.
    The fact that I think I need to deserve love is heartbreaking.

    If I heard those words come out of a little girl, I would feel compelled to set her straight! To tell her she is incredible and can achieve anything she wants out of life!

    When I was a kid, I thought I could be a supermodel.

    It’s true. I had such a confidence in who I was and that anything was attainable. No matter how short I was.

    Now likely it was a compensation mechanism so I wouldn’t get hurt, but I was tough. Nothing made me cry. And I never got emotional.

    Now I’m a blubbering mess. (Sometimes)

    Often worried that I’m not fulfilling my deepest desires or expectations. Feeling like I’m not worthy of such a great life, or that I always need to do more.

    There is motivation and striving for your best, but then there is unnecessary stress and pressure.

    Finding that balance is hard for me. I like to go all-in or not-at-all.

    I constantly need to keep myself in check while I figure out if I am doing something because I truly love it and want to do it, or if I feel guilty or need some distraction from really finding my true place of happiness.

    Maybe it’s a phase of uncertainty, maybe it’s hormones, but today I really needed a good cry and to have a little patience for the little tiger that’s clawing it’s way out of my soul.


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