Pals. Can I be honest? This whole building a website, building a following, engaging on Instagram, doing all the things? It’s not my jam. Mostly the building the website part. Your girl is not what one would call technologically savvy, but I am incredibly stubborn…so, here it is.
It’s nothing special. At least not yet. It won’t be super interactive and have a lot of bells and whistles. But it’s special to me.
See, when I moved to Nashville nearly three years ago, I had to leave my old website behind. And that’s okay. I’d outgrown what I was writing about, and while some of the writing here may seem similar, I can assure you the woman doing the writing is very different.
I moved to Nashville broken. There’s no other word for it. I had been crushed two years before I moved there and I did everything I could to put the pieces back together. Everything but take the time to heal.
And now I am. Cautiously. Optimistically. Happily.
Anyways, this time last year I had a lightbulb moment. COPYCASS. That was the name of my website. My blog. My brand. My baby. It isn’t nearly what I want it to be yet, but if there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s that if you want something you just have to go for it. Stock photo images and all.
So here I am. Getting ready to spill my guts to strangers and friends alike, almost exactly five years after I started spilling my guts to strangers and friends. And all I can think is, “finally.” It’s like equal parts being able to breathe and not breathe. Equal parts taking a deep sigh of relief and wanting to hold my breath.
Equal parts excited and so damn terrified.
But it’s HAPPENING. Because of. In spite of.
And that’s life, isn’t it? There’s always something to be excited about and something to be terrified of. Something to grieve and something to look forward to. Hand in hand. Bitter and sweet.
I think about this past fall, for example.
I got dumped. HARD CORE. And then, a week later, I lost my job. But I also had a Taylor Swift concert with some of my favorite friends that we had been planning for seven months. A couple weeks later? My biological father committed suicide. But I also had one of my dearest friends weddings in Florida, and a trip to Europe coming up.
I didn’t choose one over the other. I didn’t choose to just be sad and not LIVE. But I also didn’t choose to brush those feelings; those deep, heartbreaking, gut wrenching feelings off.
I felt them. I cried. I sobbed. I hurt. And I laughed. I smiled. I mustered up all the gratitude I could find.
We can’t sit in the bitter anymore than we can rely on the sweet. We have to make friends with both.
Because THAT is where the good stuff is.
When we take our excitement and our terror; our grief and our looking forward to; our bitter and our sweet…and we go for it. We accept it. We invite every feeling, good and bad, and we go for it.
Because of the good. In spite of the bad.