I was sitting in bed, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, my daughter and SO nodding off close to me.
Adverts for baby stuff, mum stuff and fashion stuff kept popping up. One advert for an online boutique caught my eye, and I quite liked the look of one of their outfits.
I clicked on their Instagram to find said outfit, to see whether or not they had mentioned the cost of each item in the description. I can’t afford any new clothes at the moment but I wanted to see how unaffordable this outfit was.
I found the photo of the outfit, the cool girl wearing this lovely lilac jumper, and read the description.
Turns out, the cool girl wearing those awesome clothes was a girl I used to go to school with. And she actually was a cool girl back then.
I clicked on her Instagram page and it was filled with amazing, cool girl photos of her in more awesome outfits, the outfits I would love to wear, with the hair I would love to have.
I wasn’t surprised that she had done really well for herself – we had art class together and she was insanely talented when it came to textiles, designing and sewing.
I looked at the surface of her life and wanted it to be mine.
I was wide awake for over an hour after that, desperate to change my life, to get a career started that very second. I was picturing and planning how to get my shit together whilst looking after my baby. I couldn’t turn my brain off. I was both sad and motivated. Sad that things weren’t how I wanted them, sad that I had never really had a clear goal, but motivated to try.
I’ve never really been able to stick with anything for a long time. I try to do things for myself, try to put my talents into things; jobs, projects, self employment; but they never last. I always think I’ve failed before I’ve even begun, or I hate what I’m doing after a while and just have to quit. The longest running thing I have ever done is blogging, and no amazing career has come from the thousands of hours I’ve poured into it. (But that’s not all that matters, right?)
Maybe I could have been more successful by now if I didn’t have crippling self-doubt, didn’t have such impatience with myself, and instead had more charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent (as Mama Ru says). Or maybe I’m just making excuses for being lazy. I don’t know.
My life has not been as I thought it would. That sounds like such a fucking ridiculous thing to say, because I’m pretty damn sure that everybody on the planet could say that about their lives. We could all wear that sentence on a fucking t-shirt.
I have love in my life and I am lucky in that regard. I’m just hungry for the other parts of life. I’m hungry for success in something. I want accomplishment.
I have no idea how I’m going to do it, or what I’m even going to do, but I really, really want to try.