Where '23 leaves me.

I’ve put off writing this because for a while, I didn’t know how to.

For most of my life, one mentality has gotten me through almost any scenario. One word enters my mind frequently, because it has rarely failed me.

Grit.

When I found myself recovering from a surgery, faced with the task of learning to walk yet again, grit is what met me in the gym. If I focused, drowned everything else out and ignored the pain as much as I could, I knew I would be walking again.

Because I’d done it before.

When I was in college, trying to navigate living on my own with cerebral palsy, that word saved me. If I couldn’t figure something out right away, if I fell (literally or figuratively), I knew I just had to do two things.

Get back up. And try again. If I did that enough times, I knew I’d eventually figure it out.

I’ve known discouragement, but I’ve experienced the power of grit to be even stronger.

While I have been nowhere near perfect at this in my life – there have been times I was lazy or didn’t succeed – at the end of the day, I still have learned the advantages of grit and mental toughness.

And while that’s been a good thing, like anything, it has its downfalls, too. Because my gut reaction is to just keep going in most situations, I’m not always good at walking away.

I’m not good at seeing when a break is needed.

For the last three years, I have been trying to get a novel published. Typing “three years” admittedly makes my stomach drop a little. I didn’t expect to be here, and I never expected to be typing this.

For the last three years, I’ve done everything I can to get my novel printed and on shelves. I’ve faced more rejection than I’ve ever faced, and more roadblocks than I imagined could happen.

 I’ve been run in circles by people on the inside of the industry, ghosted by people who promised to be in my corner, had partnerships just not work out like I thought they would, and I’ve been left knowing none of these struggles were unique but still wondering when they would end.

 A few weeks ago, right when I thought I was at the beginning of a publishing avenue that just might work, I hit possibly my biggest roadblock.

 And I reached my breaking point.

 I was completely exhausted and mentally at the lowest I’ve been in a long time. When I really looked at how this whole process had affected me, I realized that what felt like endless rejection in this one area of my life, was affecting how I responded in almost every area of my life. I realized it had become my immediate reaction in most situations, to put myself down more than I ever have. I can also admittedly be a strong skeptic, but all the hurt I had experienced was making me skeptical and cynical in ways I didn’t want to be.

 My confidence was at a zero, and that’s partly why I disappeared from here for a while.

 Perspective has always been important to me. I felt myself losing my perspective, and I knew something had to give.

 While I was sitting at my lowest, there was a piece of me that was shouting to just do what I’ve almost always done.

 Get up and try again.

 And I tried to. But I quickly realized that at this point, it wasn’t healthy. I had to ask myself when enough was enough.

 When it was okay to walk away.

 I struggle to see the difference between taking a break and giving up, and I think that’s where my downfall often is; for some reason, my mind often sees them as the same thing, even though they’re not.

 So many of you have been fiercely in my corner throughout this, and I am so grateful for that. That’s partly why this next sentence pains me to write. I am a chronic people pleaser, and I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want people to think I’ve failed, even if that’s what part of me feels like I’ve done.

 But with the knowledge that I’ve done all I can, I’ve given this every ounce of myself and I’m still here, without a published book, I am not giving up, but I am taking a break.

 For at least a little while, I’m walking away from my novel.

 While I don’t love typing that sentence, I do feel a strange level of peace about it. I’m not bitter at anyone or anything. And this whole thing has driven home for me just how little we can control in this life.

 Whatever is meant to happen, will. Eventually.

And I’ve never found more comfort in that statement.

 I am still writing. In some new forms actually, that I’m really enjoying and truthfully never saw coming. Never saw myself writing. With my recovering confidence, I’m not quite ready to share. But I’m writing. And enjoying it again.

 I’ve also been presented with opportunities to join some new teams and companies, that I’m really excited about.

 And I’m learning over and over to never say never.

 2023 was an anxious year for me. It was one where I felt like I rarely came up for air. It was one where I struggled to see the line between giving your all and trying to control too much. I worried way too much about what people thought.

 Thankfully, with the peace I feel in this whole “taking a break” thing, I have lots of hope the 2024 will be different in the ways I need it to be.

 Hopeful I’ll find more time to be on this blog this year.

 Confident in the abilities grit gives me but learning that you can’t always breathe or think clearly through gritted teeth.

 Where ’23 leaves me, is with a lot of questions. But also comfort in that I’ve given my all.

 And excitement for the things I don’t see coming.