Remember when I started school? When I stood in front of the college parking lot and panicked…sent a message and received a reply from The Tall Blonde saying “you got d’is one momma.”
Remember when I broke down in the car then pulled up my big girl panties and walked into that school? Angry. Bitter. Not wanting to be there. Scared of the unknown.
Well I was wrong.
It’s been safe there.
It got better…and better…until I found a place of comfort.
I changed. I grew. I gained back lost confidence with a group of young people who have been a constant source of inspiration and joy.
I held my head up. I created.
It’s been good.
But now…it’s nearing an end. In just a few short weeks it will all be over and once again I’m facing the unknown and I’m infinitely far more terrified walking out those doors than I ever was walking in them.
It’s do or die time.
Make or break time.
While I enjoyed my course and adored my instructors and classmates, the simple fact is that my return to school in my early forties had nothing to do with being a bored stay-at-home mom who wanted something new and exciting in her life. I did it…because I needed a new life.
I’m counting on this new life.
Still…there’s no time to panic. No time for fear. I’ve nine projects…big and small…to start and finish before I can call it done. Call it over.
And start again.
Bare with me…you’re about to see the panic! While I’d like to feel excitement…and I have a wee inkling that it’s just around the corner…I’m a little too freaked out to absorb it all right now.
I’ve come so far since I stepped out of that car and dragged myself unwillingly into that school. What I’ve learned has been amazing…add that to the things I already knew to begin with and I feel like there’s a whole lot of everything about to come together and something phenomenal is bound to happen…there’s a great amount of hope for my future.
I just feel the pressure.
That it’s done. It’s over. It’s about to begin.
And it simply has to work.