Wife

Mama of twins

Freelance writer

Recovering middle school English teacher

Happily transplanted Yankee living in the South

Former child actor (I know)

TV/film addict

Defender of the adverb

Earnest protagonist

“ALL-OR-NOTHING ME MANIFESTO”:

My husband is forever saying I’m an “all-or-nothing” type of gal. This is not necessarily a term of endearment as much as one of frustration. Trust me. A therapist may or may not have recently echoed his theory, suggesting I may or may not be a bit of an idealist (read: perfectionist) when it comes to certain areas of my life–those pertaining to Me, Myself, and I.

Not necessarily a consensus here, but these sentiments are ringing true. In my own words, I don’t like to “half-a**” certain things. When I feel forced into a corner–like I won’t possibly be able to do something to the best of my ability or “succeed”–whatever THAT means–my tendency is to avoid even an attempt. LAME! Okay, that does wreak of perfectionism. Boo.

Does anyone else do this? Please say, “YES!”

Take this blog, for instance. I had originally hoped (and still do hope) to tackle some of the pursuits of my heart. To “master” those “whats” in my life. The blog would aim to hold me accountable.

Social media made me believe no one else needs that kind of accountability. No feet to the flames for the rest of you out there! Not necessary for those of you climbing mountains with your toddlers every weekend. Cooking nightly gourmet meals. All while staying fit, trim, stylish, and perfectly coiffed. Yes, siree, some of you are  making life look downright easy!

It’s not so much that I want anyone else’s life other than my own–I don’t. I’m actually a happy lady. Honest. The thing is, I DO want to max out MY potential. Whatever that may be.

And so “Master of What?” was born. The problem? I failed to keep up with the blog. The reason? I didn’t think I could make it everything I wanted it to be! Gulp. Yes, there is a theme here. A tightly wound cycle of self-sabotage. (And my parents like to call me “dramatic.” Duh! They paid for my theatre degree!)

To the point: I think I’m ready. I think I might be ready to take the plunge and delve into mastering–heck, attempting–to make the most of whomever I’m supposed to be. Fear of failure just isn’t a good enough reason to never get started, is it? At least, when I imagine explaining it all to the older versions of my daughters, the fear bit doesn’t seem to add up. Mama always wanted to do “such-and-such,” but she was too scared to try. Yeah, not okay.

So, I have plans–the kind that will wind up being messy, or maybe sometimes, surprisingly great. But if that future conversation with my offspring has a chance at improving, I’ve got to start somewhere. Might as well be here. For those two. (O and Ro at right.)

Here’s to getting busy on unfinished business.