Shame On Me

Shame on me for trying to fit in with the crowd. 

Shame on me for considering the option to continue writing about my pain-points to entice readers to once again – hopefully – be interested in reading my blog posts when it goes against my intuition.

Shame on me for feeling my writing talent faded ’cause no one is interested in my feel-good stories and considered ending the newest blog series – A Chiweenie’s Tale. 

Shame on me for caring too much of what others think over what my intuition is calling me to do.

Yes, I endured the greatest loss a mother can have – the death of a child.

Yes, I crave a devoted audience (like every writer does). 

But, at what expense? And, who’s expense?

Today I sat in a hot truck parked in a parking lot tethered to the library’s wifi so I could attend a mentor/mastermind/networking group call all while trying hard not to vomit. I was sick, the dog attempted to chew everything within reach and the bright sun was shining directly on my already fevered face, chest and left arm. These once-a-month calls are that important to me. 

Near the end of the call, the group facilitator asked if I had any questions. I felt rather lame for asking, but then I am at a loss. I began my question stating, “I don’t understand.” I shared I had the largest following of readers when I wrote about the heartbreak of my son’s death. And, now that I’m not focusing my attention on the trauma drama grieving momma stuff, it seems that no one gives two shits about what I write.

I remember, from when television was the main source of entertainment, the motto shared by news outlets and advertisers was sex, drugs, ‘n gawk-worthy trauma drama material sold. 

But, do I have to wallow in my son’s death in order to attract readers to my blog series? Hell no! I’d rather have an audience of ONE – me – than ignore my intuition. I want to live life and enjoy it.

Sure there are triggers that drop me to my knees and I grieve like raging lunatic. Certainly I will grieve the death of my child well beyond my last breath, but it doesn’t mean I cannot have an enriched life experience. What is wrong with that?

Shame on me for looking outside of myself for what I need when it feels like everything is falling apart. Ironically, that’s when I feel the loneliest and most unloved. Why? Because I’m searching for what I need outside of Self – people’s affection and advice, their antidotes and attention, and blah, blah, blah.

What if… What would happen if I pursued my dreams without searching for acceptance or following what the other entrepreneurs are doing? Would I then finish writing my books? I do, after all, have five or six or seven novels started. Would I be a more successful business owner? Instead of checking out the competition, what could I accomplish if comparisionitis didn’t infect my hyperactive thoughts? And, don’t even get me started on clients assuming I will do valuable work for free or, worse yet, demand a discount because their cause is so important! Yes, I fell for that once – never ever again! They expect full payment from me upfront for their product… that’s a full-blown rant of rants for another day.

So back to the call I mentioned several paragraphs ago, it was brought to my attention that people would love to know how it is that I am “surviving” the moments that break me down. You know, what gets me through the moments. Well, this is gonna piss a lot of people off because I don’t want to share those moments.

I’m different than most individual. I talk to my deceased son, and he communicates to me. I don’t feel a need to share every stinkin’ tear drop. I don’t want your pity. I want you to understand that people grieve different, life does go on and what I keep private is my own frickin’ business.

So, shame on me for putting what others think of me ahead of my own. I’ve never fit in with the crowd. I don’t think or behave as society demands or expects. 

Does this make me a bad person? Many in the crowd will yell, “YES!”

My heart quietly states, “Girl, you’re better off without them. There’s no shame in that.”