2 years ago I was a wreck. I was waking up every day and sobbing, wishing I'd get in a car wreck on the way to work just so I could get a few hours of rest and not have to deal with my team or my clients.
2 years ago, I was so "successful" - I was newly married, with a nice income, nice things, nice title, nice life. But I was so EMPTY. I avoided thinking about why nothing felt as good as it should, so I doubled down on the success - worked harder, longer, and for what?
2 years ago, I was a person who lived for others' approval, my own ego and worked endlessly to stifle my biggest dreams with my own biggest fears (to protect myself, I said, from the inevitable suffering that is always waiting for me and anything I love).
Today, I board a plane for New Orleans for my first talk of 2018 and my 25th talk of my career - a career in public speaking that I always dreamed of but was too scared to admit was what I wanted to do, fearful of the critics who would roll their eyes and say it wasn't a "real job". They can pound sand, I don't care and I know different than them.
Today, I'm bringing my best friend along and after Wednesday's talk is done, we are tearing up the French Quarter together for a few days. Travel and being with the people I love inspire me every day and I no longer fear being not taken seriously just because I take my fun seriously.
Today, I pack my bags with nutrition thanks to my health coach so I can be strong and mentally sharp plus work on my weight loss goals. I used to think that admitting I was working on fitness and nurtition was admitting that I was a failure in the first place, but now I feel too good to care about any "failures" of my past.
Today, I pack my bag with a note from my husband so I can hear his words before I get up on that stage. "You are here to share your light and your joy with the world".
Today, I hope that if you're reading this, you're sharing your light and joy with the world, too. You deserve to love your life like this.
See you out on the road.