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Meaghan Gallant

Musings

Remembering I’m The Writer Of My Life’s Story

Remembering I am the writer of my life's story

I’m sitting down to write a blog post for Rare Broad and I feel stumped about what I want to talk about. I have a million and one ideas. The “what” isn’t the real problem.

There is just too much going on in my head.

“I should probably write a blog post related to my coaching program being released. Or more in-depth about the habit hierarchy, maybe even make a worksheet. But what would that even look like?”

I feel useless, frazzled and all over the place. And deep down I honestly feel like I need to talk about my feelings on the business side of things to clear it all up and get it out of the way.

I want to write for meaghangallant.com. I want to write the way I wrote for that initial Rare Broad launch blog post.

It’s beautiful and true and my heart out in the world in words. And I don’t know why but that just feels right, it feels good. Even if no one has even seen it.  

So where am I at right now?

Right now, I’m torn and confused; mixed.

I’m mixed up because I’m frustrated with what my finances prevents me from doing. With my time, with what my lack of commitment up until now has provided me. With the lacklusterness of a launch of my program launch – the big deal that this is and yet the complete tiny-ness of it.

I’ve been tapping weekly, if not daily, around all of these feelings I’m trying to clear up.

The smallness, the near constant inferiority I feel, my seemingly total lack of confidence.

On how insignificant I feel for feeling so small. For living so small and for having such big hurdles to overcome.

It feels like every time I read a post or watch a video of a coach talking about these obstacles that “we” need to clear – ones that would be a massive starry-eyed dream to attain for me – they are made to be minuscule, silly and it compounds a deep, deep sense of shame.

A feeling that maybe none of this is for me. That it’s just not meant to be true for me. I’m too small, too scared, too shy, too concealed, too terrified to be anything.

I can’t remember if I’ve always been this way or not. I remember feeling bigger. I remember being told, being admired, for taking big, bold action. For feeling fear but fucking going for it full throttle.

I don’t know what has changed. I don’t know what’s different. Perhaps just the crushing weight of responsibility and who I should be now as an Adult.

I tapped on being an adult. That being an adult means being bad and mean. That it means being untrue to yourself and not chasing your dreams. Because you’re tethered down by rent and car insurance and phone bills.

It feels silly to admit. Shameful, even. But I feel like it’ something I should be talking about. That it’ not something I’m the only one struggling with.

I recently retook the Myers-Briggs test and while I have always tested as an INFJ this time I got back INFP.

And it felt good to know it changed. That I changed. That surely that change has been for the better.

That I’m evolving and growing. The only true thing I seem to value these days.

But the INFP, the mediator, can be too idealistic, too altruistic. Too head in the clouds.

And that’s a fear I have. Well, that’s a criticism I carry with me. From relationships I’ve cut ties with years ago.

But still, all those words that cut and stung I continue to carry with me to this day. I would love to just drop them but I can’t will my fingers to let them go.

They follow me. Heavy and taunting. Subconsciously most days. But they are there and I know exactly when their deep gnarly roots were first planted.

 

I’m too childlike.

Too over-imaginative.

I don’t live in the “real world”.

I’m not here in reality.

I’m naive.

Foolish.

 

And I’ve let those words lash at me till I’ve shrunk down so small.

I thought I had rid myself of them. But I just got rid of the source and kept the poison close to my heart.

And what do I have to do to get rid of them? What do I have to do to finally, finally let go?

I want to believe in myself. I want to be optimistic again. I want to have faith in myself, in my ideas.

That there is a greater good in this world.

Depression has taken all the cutting remarks and used them to box me in, imprison me in darkness.

A perpetual dark gloomy cloud laced around my eyes.

It feels like this is the way through.

That writing through the process, about the process, is the only true way of letting go.

I’m tired and weary. I’m sad, so, so heavily sad. And it feels like I can’t possibly fit another thing on my plate.

What am I thinking adding another responsibility? Another expectation on myself to not measure up to.

But what if it wasn’t like that at all. What if it was fuel. What if it was a catharsis.

What if it was the way through?

Because the only one making the rules all this time has been me.

I can pretend I haven’t been. That I’ve been doing what others have told me to do or bullied me into.

But the truth is I allowed it all to continue. Long after ties were cut I took on that cruelty and used it against myself.

I’ve kept myself small. I’ve held myself back. I’ve told myself what I can and cannot do.

But the truth is none of that is true. At least, not if I don’t want it to be.

The one thing that has always kept me going through the dark despair of depression has been the reminder that I can write this story that is my life however I want to. Yet I’ve been living as if someone else has had control of the pen.

But I am the writer. This is my story. And if I want to write, I will write.

Today’s takeaway?

“YOU ARE THE WRITER OF YOUR LIFE’S STORY. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PEN. ONLY YOU CAN CREATE THE LIFE OF YOUR DREAMS”

Biz Wisdom

My “Good Enough” Launch And The Win I Needed

My "Good Enough" Launch And The Win I Needed

I became a holistic health coach six years ago. And throughout those six years, I kept telling myself I would make my practice, then named Invoking Joy, be THE thing. The money making thing. The happiness bringing thing. The Career thing.

And I would sit down at my desk or in bed or on the couch and look for the perfect new theme, the perfect launch strategy, the best way to list build, the best was to create a course, etc etc etc.

And you know what I didn’t do?

Launch.

Make money.

Work with people… or a singular person.

I wrote on the blog in spurts. Letting the tornado of emotions that comes with depression and self-doubt completely rule my life. I believed every mean, belittling word that found it’s way into my brain. I believed every criticism and dismissed words of encouragement or any twinges of hope.

But yesterday was different. Yesterday I put Invoking Joy to rest, officially and I launched a new site. A new saga. And if we are being honest – a new dream.

Yesterday I launched Rare Broad.

The “old” me would snicker behind her hand at the thought of calling it a launch. That or she would want to bury herself from embarrassment.

You see at the end of April the idea for Rare Broad came to me. And in my excitement, I started planning a big, beautiful “Ta Da!” sort of launch. The kind The Big Shots™ have. With challenges, events, giveaways and lots of friends making a big fuss about it for them.

I made the Trello boards and filled page after page in my notebook. I hadn’t felt this good, this motivated, this excited in a long (loooong) time.

Well, that is until I didn’t.

Right in the middle of May a perfect storm of depression, PMDD, and medication side effects swirled in over my life – a big, black cloud blanketing over everything. Suffocating out hope, positivity, energy.

Launch planning came to a grinding halt. 

Of course, as it always does, the cloud finally lifted and everything was set back into its usual course of motion.

But those two weeks were critical planning out my launch.

I had said June 4th was going to be the day. So it had to be June 4th.

If I let this day quietly pass by like I had with every project I’ve ever done before I knew I’d just be cementing down the fact that I never follow through on my word to myself. That I will never get anything off the ground or see any amount of success because I am a big capital F failure.

So I launched.

Which mostly just looked like me putting out a few social posts saying “Hey, I launched! Come check it out.” And scrambling behind the scenes to put the basics in place – you know like copy on my homepage and setting up links to my free content.

I didn’t feel great about it. But it did feel good.

It felt good to be doing it anyway. Despite the many imperfections. Despite the fact that there wasn’t any hoopla or fireworks.

In a small way, or maybe even a big way, I proved to myself that I can do the thing – a thing, any thing. 

I proved to myself that I can say I’m going to do something and take action on it.

And right now, that’s the best win I can give myself.

The take away from this?

“SOMETIMES A WIN ISN’T THE ONE YOU WANT, BUT IT IS THE ONE YOU NEED” 

 


 

P.S. If your curious about Rare Broad and want to learn more click here to visit the site. While you’re there pick up a copy of the Sticky Habits workbook. It’s freshly designed and expanded and I’m kind of really proud of it. 💁‍♀️