How to deny who you are and slowly choke on your own breath.

"Finding yourself is not about discovering a new person, but rather unraveling the layers that have been hiding your true essence all along. It's peeling back the expectations, the doubts, and the fears to reveal the beautiful and unique soul that has always been within you." - A.I.

I don't know why it’s so important for me to share this story, but it is. It’s a story I’ve tried to tell, I shit you not, probably 10 times, and all have been hidden or deleted, trashed in shame, confusion, or the idea that I don’t have to tell everyone everything. But because the beginning of the story was so public I feel like it only makes sense to share the ending. Not doing so feels like holding back or lying, especially in a digital age where so much of my life has been on the Internet. Picking and choosing what goes public in a luxury. I’m choosing to be fully honest instead, and weirdly enough, it’s not even for anyone other than me, it just feels deeply right to do, and maybe even like a closing of a chapter. So here I go. I can’t promise you this won’t be messy, or if it will even make sense when I’m done, but I’m going to tell the story, and finish the story, for good this time.

(If you are feeling lazy I have put all key points in bold.)

In 2017 I could feel the burn out start to sink in. I had accidentally started my Portrait Photography business in 2010 and by 2012 things were super busy. It grew at a rate I didn’t expect and in a way that my younger self would be so proud of. I was making more than I ever thought possible for me, I had 2 part time employees, and our calendar was booked out sometimes 2-3 months in advance. But. My vacations were based around my client’s availability, my creativity was based around my client’s vision, and my life outside of my clients was slowly rotting like an old house that no one maintains.

Grocery shopping sometimes happened at 8 pm. Dinner sometimes happened at 10 pm. Most of the time breakfast was coffee and lunch was skipped, probably for coffee. My yard and my home projects happened with an exhausted body and brain. I had developed super bad shoulder tension that landed me on the couch with horrific headaches half the week, and unfortunately I had some clients who didn’t give a shit about that, which means they didn’t give a shit about me. And every client I tried so damn hard to give 2+ shits about. Don’t get me wrong, not all were like that. Many became friends, which made my decision to choose myself and quit my job that much harder.

I kept saying- I just want time. I just want simple.

I’ll keep this short. I quit. I got time. And because I couldn’t handle just disappearing into what felt like the real world abyss with no title or purpose I struggled and filled that time while also over complicating things 1- because it was what I was used to and 2- my ego wasn’t ready to take the blow.

I’ve told that story many, many times before. That’s not what’s new.
This is the new part, the full behind the scenes version:

I was super manic and confused so I did 12 weeks of Life Coaching and landed on my next venture, a more calming business of Meditation. It was fun to learn new things again, it was exciting to build a brand, it was relaxing to be in that mindset. But I wasn’t seeing the success I had expected. Why? Because I was comparing my first 6 months of a BRAND NEW business to the last year of my 8 year old business.

When that didn’t explode I decided to pick a personal goal- finally be able to read the Tarot for myself with no guide book. I had been reading Tarot since I was 16 but never took the time to study it. As I did that I started to see how it could be a great addition to the business I had started so I tossed out some $5 Readings and I sold 12 instantly. I was hooked. THIS! This was it. This was my new thing.

If you’re wondering how that down time and simplistic life was going- pretty terrible. Now, not only was I still filling my time with business things, neglecting my personal life, and turning any hobby I could into a business instead of simply keeping it for myself, I was doing it all on top of burn out and I was FIGHTING my gut instinct that was constantly still screaming- get off line, stop making content, focus on you, focus on your personal projects, slip away and be a no one in the real world. But I just couldn’t. My brain wouldn't let me.

I actually had sat down to write a blog during this time about how time wasn’t the thing I wanted, I just wanted more aligned purpose (what I kept telling myself so I could feel good about my choices), only to find as the writing poured out of me with no filter that it was all a lie, I did want time, I just ran away from it, and I was left to sit and stare at my own words starting back at me saying- you fucked up. I slammed the laptop shut and lied to myself for another 2 years. Did I wonder about that blog often? I thought about it all the time. Did I do anything about it? No. Because lying to myself and clawing my way though the future was easier than to admit what I really needed to do, and that was to take the damn time.

In the middle of this the pandemic struck and that’s when shit really got bad, obviously for everyone, but here I’m talking about my mental health. Feel how you want about the whole fucking debacle, get the V, don’t, I can assure you I DO NOT care. But due to the government having control over what was open, what was closed, telling medical facilities how to handle the situation vs letting individuals decide what was best for them I have never felt so god damn scared, hopeless, and helpless. And no, it wasn’t because I couldn’t get my hair cut. It was because I watched my cat violently vomit for 12 hours while I called every single vet and emergency facility in a 2 hour radius only to find everyone was closed due to possible exposure and they legally couldn’t open their doors to help us, even though some staff and Drs were perfectly healthy and I was 100% willing to take that risk so my cat wouldn't die. And that all fucked me right up. I am still suffering from PTSD, as I think many people are, they just don't want to say that outloud because it will be met with controversy from the "other side."

This triggered anxiety in me like I’ve never, ever experienced before. I thought about death often. I feared any hairball, any hiccup. I started placing that fear I had about my cat onto myself, then my husband, and it slowly crept out onto my parents- all the cancers that could be growing in us, all the ways we could die, all the things that could take us out but if I was just vigilant enough I could see them, catch them early, and stop death from taking the people I loved. I viewed life as cruel and scary. And slowly I started to turn into this brittle, hollow, depressed, easily offended meat sack that would go on to have chronic back pack for 2+ years from not only anxiety but also from repressing my truth for decades.

I would go on to join anxiety memberships, pay tons in chiropractic appointments and supplements, watch countless YouTube videos, read self help books, and ultimately have a nervous system that was so dysregulated that my fight or flight response was always turned on and all I wanted to ever do was run away from everything in order to feel better, but because my survival instinct for so many decades previous to that was to fight I wouldn't give in, so I was in a constant loop of fighting and wanting to run.

We’re about 3+ years into this journey now. In this time I’ve also gotten certified as a Life Coach, and was working on getting certified for Therapeutic Art when I realized- I can’t do this anymore. So. This was the first thing I killed off. After that I killed off my online shop. Then I killed my full website and blog.

I had done a meditation that led me to a creative idea (that I’m keeping secret because it feels important to me and I want to see where it goes when I don’t apply pressure). I was all in. This was it. Finally, a personal goal not related to money, not for a client, straight from my subconscious. It felt so right. I was going to turn this stinking, sinking ship around!

Jan. 1st 2023 I announced on my Instagram that this was the year I would dedicate to proving to myself that I could do said project above and live the life as a true Artist, FINALLY.

And… in less than a week I fucked it all up again, just like before. I couldn’t see the pattern. I was in too deep. And here’s where I really started to break:

Instantly money became a thing in my head. I thought I needed to fund this project (when in all reality I wouldn’t need funding to get it started, or to build it, but maybe eventually it could help.) I told myself I needed a mass following or my project would never get off the ground (which isn’t true either, there’s this thing called the real world and projects take off there all the time.) I told myself I wanted to make passive income online, never working with people 1 on 1 again (which I later found out is NOT what my personality is fueled by at all but influencers online got in my head, even though I was certain I was immune to being influenced.)

So… I decided I was going to create, market, and sell a Photography Course. I invested $2,000 on a course that would teach me how to build a course (and a bunch of other shit that goes with building, marketing, selling a course.). Funny on so many levels. I was worried about funding my secret project, so instead of using the $2,000 FOR the project, I gave it away… Fuck. Me. Hi Self Sabotage, nice to meet you.

I built a website. Got a wave of confidence. Started creating portraits again that I was proud of. Offered Coaching and Camera Classes to fill the gap until the course was ready. I felt at home. It all felt possible.

Until I started to create marketing content and education reels on Instagram. You see, I couldn’t just make portraits, no no no. I had to go viral! I had to gain a huge audience to buy my course so I could go back to my original project. No passive income and no huge audience, in my head = no passion project would ever be possible. Really, I just didn't know how to have a personal goal which meant I didn't know what it was like to have a goal without money connected to it. For SO long all my goals were wrapped up in business. Who makes goals for hobbies?

As far as the course, the outline is done. It’s been reviewed by talented peers. I started building slides and typing out the audio, word for word. Meanwhile my content was falling flat and I couldn’t stop watching videos about how to crack the algorithm, how to make viral reels, how to speak to your target audience, how to solve their problems, how to write the perfect bio, caption, I paid for a hashtag membership, I watched hours of free webinars from “highly successful” idiots on the internet that I believed because I was so desperate and brainwashed, I drove my husband crazy with questions on how to make my content better because clearly I just wasn’t good enough or doing things right. I could do this. I could control this. 

I could put my head down and fight this. I could win. I could… have a fucking mental breakdown trying to go viral on an addictive and soul sucking app meanwhile running away from my first goal of getting time back and my second goal of doing a personal creative project that spoke to me.

And then 1 day I cracked, it all became obvious and I vowed that I was DONE. I was done fighting for something I didn’t even care about. I was done creating this shit content that made me cringe at myself. I was done denying myself what I ACTUALLY wanted in life. I was done trying to be someone.I was done emulating people I didn't even like. I was done being a victim to money. I was done pretending like a simple life didn’t inspire me. I was done looking at my creative work as if it was a waste unless it made money. And I was done pretending like I was ok, because I wasn’t ok.

After that I stopped posting online, I abandoned the course, I sank into daily chores and yard work, I dreamed of private personal goals, I took epic trips and told no one, and for a few months I relied heavily on my husband, family, and friends to help sort out my head which was helpful but ultimately far above their pay grade and I signed up for therapy for the first time in my life.

We’ll stop there for today but… I could cry. For the first time in 4 years I feel like I was finally able to tell my story and sum up the shitstorm I rode out. I am proud of myself. That shit was fucking hard. As I type this in a Starbucks I hold back tears. Tears that say- I am SO happy to be out of that darkness, tears that say- damn girl, you are fucking strong, and tears that say- you’ve learned so much, you deserve so much, I can’t wait to see where you go from here with this new grace you have given yourself.

If you've made it this far, thank you, and if you can relate to any of this please, please remember to give yourself grace and ALWAYS listen to your gut, not your head, not the internet, and not the version of yourself you've made to protect yourself or prove yourself- find a way to LISTEN and TRUST yourself. Only you can start the journey to helping yourself. I believe new found trust in myself is why I'm finally able to tell this whole story, because I have no shame in it and I don't need anyone to understand or agree with it. I've done my best. That's not why I tell it. I speak to honor my truth and to connect with anyone who finds it resembles their truth, maybe it will help, and that's worth taking the time to type it all out, for both of us.