Finding my “f*ck that sh*t” battle cry

The preach:  It’s ok to say no.

The practice: Historically, I’m not really a “fuck this shit” type of girl. I’m more of one of those methodical, introspective types who processes (alt. mulls over; analyses; considers) my ice cream selection for days. I’m one of those girls that will hang on for far too long, giving and giving just like that poor little tree did until it was a stump. I can martyr with the best of them. I turn too many cheeks. And then… the camel’s back meets that last straw, and I end up resentful. Mostly, I’m resenting myself—because, once again, I’ve either not set the boundary or, worse, I wasn’t sure what the boundary should be.

So, yeah. I’m working on that. Maybe a little too much.

In 3 months’ time, I finally said, “Fuck this shit!” to some major things—things that I felt were suffocating me, keeping me small or stuck from being the girl I know I am, and living the life I want to try to live. The life I want to model for my son.

I quit two (“good”) jobs because they didn’t feel true to my passion and didn’t align with my life goals. I ended my marriage because it was toxic. I sold a home I loved because it would’ve been financially prohibitive to keep it, and I didn’t want to rob my son of life experiences by being house poor. I became, and still am, a single mom even though I feared doing so. And I decided to take a job that didn’t have the “good job” types of securities, but offered more “life benefits.” Brave or crazy?? Yes and yes.

Yeah. My new-found fuck-this-shit battle cry is leading me right into… well, I don’t know yet. But, I don’t regret it. I cry. I smile. I laugh. I freak out. I practice gratitude and then I curse at the wind for no reason. Some nights I drink and other nights I meditate.

When we change our course, we’re tossled in the breeze until we find an anchor to re-root us in our new life. That’s just the way it goes. I’ve run out of fucks to give and am searching for grace and goodness through the struggle. I fall. But I get back up and drag myself forward. It’s all I can do.

That Einstein guy was right… if we want a different outcome, we have got to do things differently. Normally, I’d take the time to look it up so I could quote it perfectly, but… fuck that shit, too.

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