Back in January, I wrote a post in which I gave myself permission to let things be. “Percolating,” I called it. Well, it took a lot longer than I thought. Letting decisions come to me in an organic, easygoing manner is not my forte. I have too much pent-up energy for that. Trying to “let go” makes me want to rise up riot, metaphorically speaking. But this time, I did it. I let things stew sufficiently, and now I’m moving forward.
I’ve been uncharacteristic silent here lately. While I consider myself an open book most of the time, I’ve been holding some things close to home this summer. Perhaps you already saw that I’ve pulled the plug on Divorced Before 30 and my book project. Huge decision. For nearly three years, I wrote, edited, and built up an online community. I tweeted, I Facebooked, and I landed a literary agent. For the most part, I had a ball, but after months of deliberating next steps, I woke up one day and realized that I wanted to let it go.
That project doesn’t define me. More than wanting to be a published memoirist or a well-loved blogger, I want to have a satisfying everyday life. I love writing, but I also love coaxing kids out of mud puddles, leafing through a magazine in the living room wingback, and taking a hot bath at the end of a long day. Regular person stuff. This is not to say that I won’t come up with another wild goal six months from now.
It’s been a stressful year in a lot of ways, but it’s nothing that some downtime and ice cream can’t fix. I’ll be starting a new job in a couple of weeks, and making the decision to leave my current position was incredibly difficult. I’ve been there four and a half years and have grown so fond of the people that it feels a little like college graduation. Tears have been shed. And yet I’m very excited for a new challenge.
At home, I am happily working on a modest summer checklist—things like putting together a baby book for Linus and having a garage sale with my mom. The fam and I are still going strong on frugal family fun, and feeding the ducks at a nearby pond is the best thing ever as far as the kids are concerned. Oh, and by the way, “the baby,” as we like to call him, is no longer a baby! He walks around the house like a drunken sailor, lunging for crayons and knocking over the dogs’ dishes. And Miss Linnea? She’s gearing up for preschool by nailing this potty-training thing down. Most days, she does.
That, folks, is where I’ve been.
I Want to Know
Are you an open book, or do you tend to keep things to yourself?
Have you noticed a difference in your sharing online versus in real life?