Member-only story
You’re not where you wanna be, because you’re not sick of your own sh*t yet.
Trust me I know
Listen, I’m no life guru.
I’m not an overachieving success story, here on Medium or even in real life. But that depends on one’s definition of success.
Who I am is a person who’s finally come to terms with my own mess. And the culprit behind all of it.
It’s not my ex.
Nor my kids when they act up up to the point I wanna cave their chests in.
This is not spiritual warfare where I’m losing my fight with the devil, my pastor speaks about.
No, no, no.
Somewhere along the line I forgot who I was. Or maybe I never quite knew.
Now I understand within my mess I had the keys to unlock the deadweight that had been holding me back the whole time.
Not knowing who you are and what you’re capable of will shave years off your life.
I just hadn’t gotten sick of it. Too familiar. Too convenient.
And if I let it go, what is left? This makes me, me right?
I got tired of making excuses for myself. As to why I’m not achieving what I want. Getting what I want. Tangible or not.
