“the trouble is you think you have time”

I came across this quote today and thought instantly how much I needed to hear it today. It caught something in me and struck a nerve in that I have been seeing so much lately that I am procrastinating. From the plants that I want to re-pot to the furniture I want to refinish to the book I have been saying I’ll get to being serious about – it all just simmers under the surface and I keep telling myself that I will get to it…soon…just not today.

So I saw this quote and immediately all of this popped into my head and I thought, “I should write a little something about this and try to sort my head out with it all” and then I thought, “I’ll make a note to do it later so I don’t forget” …and there you have it. I have an entire list of notes of things that made me go “yeah! I want to write about that!”, but not the writing to go with the notes.

But instead, this time (after laughing out loud at the irony of that) I stopped what I was doing and opened up a new blank document and started typing.

The fact is that we don;t know how much time we have. Even if it’s not something final like death that will be the thing that stops us (and really,in that case, we probably won’t care too much, we’ll be dead), any number of things can pop up that will affect whether or not a dream or a goal can be followed through on.

I had great aspirations when I was 15 years old of all the things I wanted to do and places I wanted to see. I’m 44 now and none have been realized. I’m not dead, life just got in the way and I kept pushing things off and making other things a priority and voila, here I am almost 30 years later and still saying “someday”. If I’m not smart, 30 more years will be gone and I’ll be wishing I had chosen differently. Regret is not something I want to have with me in my golden years. Days have a way of running by and piling up, making days into weeks and weeks into months and before I know it, that draft of a book of writings if still just a draft and I am still going to start seriously working on it – someday.

The problem is that I keep thinking that I will get to those things eventually. These are things that I really want to do or achieve, so why don’t I? I’m not afraid of hard work or effort. That’s not it. So what it comes down to is that here is no reason. Turning over a new page and taking this to heart – and a blog post is written…now, and not “later”.

I’m tired of living limited and inhibited. Sick of letting fear control me and stop me from doing what I want. Fed up with not making the choices that I want to make.


I have let fear dictate my life is how it feels. From those first moments of feeling like I was somehow broken and wrong because of what made me feel, what made me yearn and hunger for touch. Wrong. Scared and sure that I couldn’t have the life I wanted if I choose what I really wanted in a partner. So I made the choice to go the path of “normal”, resting assured that I would stop having those feelings, stop wanting what wouldn’t get me the family and children that I knew I wanted. Women who loved women didn’t have that. Not in my world. So I married men. I tried not to let on that I was drawn to, thirsted for, desired, the wives of my husband’s friends. Years down the road and a couple of divorces and some life lessons and that choice is now comfortably made – the way it should have been 30 years ago. A lesson hard learned.


Fears holding me back all of my life. Fear of failure, fear of what if I make the wrong decisions. Voices in my mind from so many years warning me that I’m not smart enough, strong enough or knowledgeable about myself enough to ever make the right choice. All at the same time wearing a mask that I was all those things. Inside though, not at all. The truth is though that I am those things. I’ve found that truth about 10 years ago. Briefly. I started to not doubt that I DO know myself, that I do know what I want, what will be the right choice. A sideways bump the last few years as I’ve fought back through grief and learned to live with that has started to come around again.


Starting to fight out of the fog that grief brought down. The fog that made me second guess myself.


Seeing now the far reaching impact that loss and grief can wreak. Seeing that some parts of my life need a shake up. I miss my confidence – even in my disastrous attempts at something new – there were times of laughter and “oh well, that was a fun try!” and I didn’t have the grounded sense of fear that permeates me now. I feel it and it makes me angry and sad and frustrated.


Now with a partner that I have none of the old fears with. I know, without a doubt, that she loves me – not a version of me. I know that I have a relationship with her that supports me, the same way I support her. The freedom that comes with that is something I had no idea existed to be honest. Feels good, and right, and the way it should be.


The rest of the work is for me to stop listening to the voices in my head that tell me the fears. The ones that tell me to not dance like I want, swear like I do (ladies don’t use language like THAT), to not wear that piece of clothing that makes me feel awesome. to not do those things that I want to, but am scared to do. Time for me to silence that. Time for me to stop being the harshest judge and critic and censor on myself.


It’s about fucking time.