You might say I’m a little late to this whole blogging game and I would 100% have to agree with you. I am just a few weeks shy of my 42nd birthday, I have two boys at home, I own a business with my husband and most days I feel like I could not possibly do any more. So why would I start a blog? Why would I further complicate an already full life? The short answer is this….the voice in my head can be a real bitch and it’s time to show her who the boss is around here. Let me explain.

I have always wanted to write and a handful of times over my almost 42 years of life, I’ve been inspired to do so. Or at least, I’ve been inspired to think really, really hard about it before settling into my comfortable routine of, well, not writing. The truth is, there is a ruthless, nasty, 15 year old version of myself living in my head and she’s really good at giving me all the reasons I need NOT to do this thing that I’ve always wanted to do. She tells me I am not good enough, that no one will want to read about what I have to say, that other people are doing this already and they are so much better than me. “What?” you ask. “You have a teenaged girl living in your head?” Yes friends, it’s true, and until now, all my efforts to shut her up has only resulted in her becoming louder and stronger. “YOU DON’T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO DO THIS”, is her refrain.

My 30s were transformative years and towards the end of that decade I grew very tired of listening to the echo of my teenaged self. In 2020 I turned 40 and I decided it was time to at least try to take action despite the things she was telling me. I told myself I was going to write and I started journalling semi-regularly. I had dreams of starting a blog but I told myself I needed to practice. I was not ready to make a commitment and quite frankly, I was terrified. I also told no one else about my dream. It remained a fantasy lived on sleepless nights and long drives. 365 days went by and in December of 2020 I cried into my somewhat confused husband’s arms, feeling the sting of shame of not having even tried. My adolescent conscience jutted her hip, flipped her hair and offered me a smug “I told you that you don’t have what it takes.”.

After a self-determined appropriate period of wallowing in self-loathing, I put on my big girl panties, dried my tears and did what I always do. I set a goal. In 2021 I made it my goal to write 12 articles. Ignoring the basic tenet of specificity in goal setting, I made no plan as to what these articles would be about, or where they would be published. I told my husband (I kind of had to explain the tears drying on his shirt) and even a few others that I was toying with the notion of starting a blog. I came up with a name, started jotting down ideas and tried to build my self-confidence. But as the year wore on my inner dialogue chipped away at my resolve.

“Blogs cost money you know.”

“How are you going to find the time?”

“Why can’t you just be happy with what you have?”

“What if you start but can’t follow through?”

“Who do you think you are? Glennon Doyle?”

*Side note – I did write 2 articles on LinkedIn in 2021 and I’m proud of the way those turned out. What I discovered, however, was that LinkedIn didn’t really provide me with the platform I was looking for. Plus, I don’t like LinkedIn (maybe a blog about that another time).

The earth has taken another trip around the sun and here I am on December 31st of 2021, wishing I had tried a little harder. I’m not angry at myself the way I have been in the past and there are no tears, but I know that being ruled by a bad tempered, pubescent figment of my imagination is no way to life my life. I am ready to make a change. Maybe it’s because I’m a bit older (wiser?) but I simply refuse to listen to her anymore. And so this year, rather than wishing something would happen, or setting a random goal with no rhyme or reason, I am taking action. I have purchased a domain name, pieced together an imperfect website and I’m just going to write. I don’t know if anyone will read this. I don’t know if the content will be relatable. I don’t even know if I’m using proper grammar. All I know is that I don’t want to come to the end of yet another year and say, “I wish I would have tried harder”.

What will I write about? Although I own a company that sells window coverings and this blog is called Blind Enthusiasm, I assure you it has nothing to do with purchasing window decor. My purpose is to share my experiences, my thoughts and how I’m navigating this entirely bizarre world we live in. At times it will be light and funny and at times I’m going to explore some of the dark and messy things I think and feel. Rather than stuffing the voice inside my head way down deep, I’m going to invite her into the light. I’m going to teach her to be gentle, supportive and forgiving and to understand that things do not always have to be perfect to be ok. I’m going to do that by writing it all down and putting it out in the open. My hope is that in sharing these things, maybe you’ll also be able to temper the voice in your head. Do you have one? Have you named it? What kind of things does it tell you? Maybe if I jump and live to tell the tale, you’ll be inspired to do that thing you’ve always wanted to do. I honestly don’t know if it will work but at least a year from now I’ll know I tried.

So here we go. I’ve hit the “publish” button and I’ve taken the leap. Let’s just see if I can grow some wings on the way down. Who’s with me? Voices in our heads be damned.

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