When I reflect on this past year, a whole lot of negative emotions flood my mind. This was a hard year. I spent so much of it feeling behind, overwhelmed, stressed out, resentful, misunderstood, ignored, confused, and helpless. I think I’ve been having a bit of an identity crisis about what I’m “supposed to be doing” with my life and it’s taken up so much of my mental energy, leaving me with very little left for everybody and everything else. I’m also still in constant pain from my ankle and on again off again plantar fasciitis, perpetually leaving me with such a desire to change my life while being so frustrated with my physical limitations. I feel like a failure as a parent every single time one of my kids has a meltdown or is disrespectful (so, basically every day), and I’ve been pulling back and hiding, rather than finding successful ways to deal with our problems. I have been driven by my own personal agenda and to do lists above all else at almost every moment of every day, never prioritizing the people around me, and almost never having any FUN. Most of 2019’s negativity stems from my own internal struggles, and honestly – I don’t really want to think about it anymore. I want to move on. 2020 is going to be better, I am going to change, and I’m going to put this year behind me.
The best part of 2019 is that I managed to do a lot of travel! Which, to be honest, is also the reason I always felt so behind – because taking four to five weeks away from a business you run on your own really does put you behind. There’s no way around it. But after not being able to do much at all in 2018 thanks to my ankle, it was fun to make up for it this year. In February we took a drive to Omaha to visit my brother and family, which was really fun – except for the WORST DRIVE OF ALL TIME coming home in a major snowstorm on unplowed icy roads. Later in February we went to Florida with Greg’s parents for Universal Studios and Harry Potter World over Shepard’s 8th birthday. In May, Greg and I went to Colorado to celebrate our 13th anniversary. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined, and I really enjoyed seeing a part of the country that was new to both of us. In July I took the boys on a mini vacation to a hotel a few hours north, just the three of us. It’s always an interesting and more bonding dynamic when Greg isn’t with us and our kids actually transfer some of their interest to me. We had a good time. In August I went to Texas for the first time, spending half my days at a resort for Book Bonanza and half the time wandering around Dallas in extreme heat. I loved Book Bonanza, I thought the Dallas Farmers Market was the best I’ve ever been to, but I could definitely do without ever seeing Texas in August again. And in November I took another solo trip to North Carolina, spending half the time at my first Hope Writers conference and half the time driving across the state to stay at a relaxing beachside hotel. It was quite the fortunate year, taking FOUR huge vacations, requiring flights across the country and seeing a lot of new places. I cherish the years like this, when we have the opportunity and freedom to choose the trips we want to take, without a lot of limiting factors.
It’s taken me a long time to work through my bitterness and hurt, but I’ve come to the realization this year that I don’t need to let people have the power to hurt me anymore. There are a handful of people in my life – friends, not family – that I’ve given way too much power to and I’m taking it back. I’m distancing myself from the people that flat out ignore the ways I’ve tried to connect with them, the ones that cancel all the plans we make – or just plain don’t show when they promised they would. It’s not worth it. I have other friends who DO show up, who DO care about me, who DON’T diminish the value of female friendship. I’ve learned – and will continue to work on – stepping back from the harmful relationships and focusing on the ones that only bring joy and connection to my life. I think one of the greatest things I’ve done this year is having the occasional coffee morning at my house. It’s something easy that people can do to come together and connect. It’s even spurred some of them on to start issuing their own invites. This group of friends, we used to do so much together when our kids were toddlers and preschoolers. Then life got crazy and we lost our way. And now we’re getting it back. We’re all giving each other what we can in the ways that work out best in this season of life.
This past year has also been a health related rollercoaster. In October 2018 I was diagnosed with fatty liver and told I needed to lose weight. So that’s what I focused on and it sucked. I felt deprived and hungry all the time, but I DID lose some weight. But then in January my uncle died. And helping to clean out his apartment and seeing the physical evidence of what it looks like to die alone with mental illness was honestly really, really traumatic. And I’m not blaming my weight gained back on that, but it was a catalyst for going back to my well known lifestyle of emotional eating. I stopped caring. I REALLY stopped caring during the summer when every day felt like just another battle and I was living in survival mode. And then in September when I got my freedom back and could go to ANY RESTAURANTS AT ANY TIME and totally went overboard. Which resulted in my next annual visit in October weighing more than ever, a referral to a different doctor, the scare of having an incurable autoimmune hepatitis diagnosis, a liver biopsy to confirm it’s – so far – only fatty liver, which all led to the conclusion that I NEED TO CHANGE MY LIFE. Yes, losing weight would really help. But I’m not focusing on that because that’s an end goal. That’s a conclusion that I would maybe eventually reach and then decide I didn’t need to make those choices anymore. So it’s been a huge learning curve with a ton of overactive emotions, but I AM changing. I’m doing the work to be a different person in how I eat, how I cook, how I shop, and how I deal with all my mental stuff in a healthier way than eating chips and chocolate. It’s only the beginning, and this past week around the holidays has been a bit murky. But I honestly and truly feel great about making these changes. Not deprived. Not hangry. Not depressed. But good. Hopeful. I’m nourishing myself and learning how to better nourish my family so they don’t end up on the same path as me. All that sucky stuff was exactly what I needed to change my lifestyle.
The biggest issue that plagued me this year was where to devote the bulk of my daytime hours and what career direction was right for me. I thought I could make it work being both a doll maker and working toward being a paid writer. I assume most writers don’t have the luxury of devoting all their time to writing at the beginning – they still need to get paid. But I’d guess that a lot of new writers are not also trying to run a totally different creative business completely on their own. The lack of boundaries in my life and constant pull between one or the other, never feeling like I could give enough to either (or ANYTHING in my life) – it was too much. I was briefly wooed by the writing life at my Hope Writers conference. I definitely do not regret going, but I’ve also come to realize in the two months since that I don’t think that particular community is for me. At least not now. I’ve also had a bit of an epiphany in the last couple of days as I continue to mull this all over. I don’t actually want to be a working writer. I mean, yeah, writing a book and having that sense of accomplishment would be AMAZING. But the minute I started focusing my blog posts and instagram posts for “my reader” I became paralyzed with anxiety. I don’t WANT to focus all of my posts toward other people. I don’t want to schedule my social media updates. I don’t want to network with other people. I don’t want to devote time every day just trying to build my platform. I don’t want to constantly be hunting down ways to bring in money for my words, always wondering if what I have to say is worth anything. I just want TO WRITE. For ME. I love to write, I’ve always loved to write, and I believe I always will. But my biggest purpose in writing is simply to figure out my own thoughts. It’s my therapy, my cathartic release, the only way I can move past most of the things that happen to me. I do like writing a lot of those feelings in this public space in the hopes that I will make connections with a handful of people and maybe someone will read about my messy life and know that they’re not alone in theirs. But this doesn’t need to be my career path. It can just be something I really like to do.
It feels like a huge relief to come to that conclusion at the end of this confusing and stressful year. I am a doll maker. I’m a pretty good one too. It’s a weird career, and one that most people don’t understand or think is just some cute little hobby to keep a homemaker busy. Sometimes it’s easy for my own thoughts to lean in that direction as well because I don’t get a lot of validation for my work in the real world. But I’m proud of what I’ve built and I’m excited to continue it with a stronger sense of direction and purpose in the coming year. I’ll still write. I’ll still read. I’ll still cook. I’ll still be a wife and a mom and a friend. I can be it all without needing to profit from it. My profit will come in the form of a connected, well balanced, creative, and joy filled life.
And that’s all I have to say about 2019! I’ll be back soon with my READING reflections on the year, something I’m much more excited to share!
