I will not do things I don’t love again!
My promise to myself when I turned the big 5-0. Yet, here I am at 57 working in a job that doesn’t fulfill my artistic side at any level. How often have I created a mantra then not lived it? Singing? Acting? Writing? Friendships?
I’ve decided, as I’ve been told, it’s a lack of faith only in myself. I don’t believe me. It’s easier to see what I believe as I’ve instilled this habit in my children. It doesn’t matter what others say…I don’t believe me. I don’t believe what?
I’m worth it or I’m not worth it?
I am enough or I’m not enough?
It’s that voice in my head (heart) that reminds me that I’m a great actress, and so I have been able to hoodwink those that profess to believe in me.
I circle around success, teasing myself that it could happen if I work hard enough, long enough—attempt enough—the truth of what I’m afraid of always hanging out there.
What if it did happen?
