Last night I was deep in my feels as I got my shower for the evening. I began a conversation out loud about what I was thinking and feeling. My struggle, not unique, tends to be a battle between ambition and gratitude, fear and goals. Now, more than ever, we're living in these filtered worlds of accomplishment and dreams. Everything feels so...aspirational. I get worried I'm missing out on the present moment.
To channel these insecurities, I found myself, post shower, sitting at my home office glancing at my microphone at the corner of the desk. I gently thumbed the wired tip before sliding it next to my laptop.
"Why the hell not?" I said aloud as I fished out the USB cord and opened up Audacity.
I used to run a weekly podcast. It didn't get much traction. I was using it as a tool to build my brand. As a true ENFP, I got distracted by some new and brilliant idea and failed to see the podcast through.
Apparently my soul missed it because twenty minutes later I recorded a self-indulgent, vulnerability-laced rant about my dreams and how far they seem. There was some body image issues tucked in there too. I published it and went to bed.
I struggled between wanting to tell the world it was out there and keeping it quietly published on my podcast site. I worried it was too self-deprecating. I worried someone would listen and think "STFU you privileged bi***." I also worried I'd be flooded with well meaning friends who say "you're so beautiful, shut up. Or, you've accomplished so much, be proud."
But then I thought, what if there are women out there going through the exact same thing right now? What about all those women fighting self-image issues or impostor syndrome or seeing their dreams in crystal clear light but having a hard time paving a path to get there?
So here we are. If there was ever a place for this rant to go live it would be this MOGUL platform.
I don't run ads. I don't make money off the podcast, and this isn't promotional in nature. In fact, I just hope it makes someone else feel a little less alone. Thanks for letting me give it a home.
I still might regret this.