An Eviction Notice

After writing a whole blog post about believing in myself, one does not automatically wake up the next morning with the ideal level of self-confidence.

To find the origin of my uncertainty, we must travel back 30 years to my senior year of high school. It is pretty close to the end of the school year. I was sweating bullets in the classroom–not because of the Iack of air-conditioning–but because I was putting the finishing touches on my latest journalism assignment. It was due at the end of class, and I was pretty proud of my piece on where I see myself in five years. In my article, I visualized myself sitting in the middle of a busy newsroom working on a feature story for the Sunday paper.

When the bell rang, my teacher walked around the room to collect our papers. I handed mine to her and noticed her lingering by my desk. She began to walk toward the front of the classroom, but then abruptly turned around to look me straight in the eye.

You know, Elisa – I don’t think you have what it takes to be a journalist,” she said as a matter of fact.

Imagine my disbelief. I was 18 years old, and this bitch was already instilling a fear of failure in me before I graduated. I was so shocked that I had no response, but I remember the tears streaming down my face as I walked to my locker.

Since that day, she has been taking up way too much real estate inside my head. She has enjoyed her stay rent-free, but this year she is getting her eviction notice. The letter goes something like this:

Dear Ms. O.,

Maybe you thought you were doing me a favor that day when you told me I wasn’t good enough to be a writer. It didn’t occur to you that I’d been writing since the 4th grade, and it is all I’ve ever thought about doing with my life. You just opened your mouth and gave me your unsolicited opinion. It certainly wasn’t a fact.

Maybe at the time, I didn’t have the sense of adventure an investigative reporter needs. I’m chalking that up to my youth and somewhat sheltered childhood where taking risks was not encouraged. You were supposed to be my mentor and my teacher. How sad that you felt you needed to overpower my dreams with your cruelty. How I wish you had just kept on walking to the front of the classroom that day.

And guess what, today I’m a writer. I’ve had a successful career in communications and a blog that has fans and followers. I am a writer with a garden full of ideas that continues to grow. And I believe that someday one of those ideas will blossom into a book.

Today, I am pulling your lease. You have worn out your welcome. It is my fault for letting you stay too long. I blame myself for not turning my writing dreams into a reality a decade ago. But, I blame you for starting me on the path of self-doubt. All of that ends now.

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass when you leave.

Goodbye.

Believe

I have a confession to make. Lately, I’ve been a sucker for self-help books, especially ones that are specifically geared towards empowering women. Between challenges at work and still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, there are moments when I need all the help I can get. And I tend to find inspiration, wisdom and solace in these kinds of books.

Here is what is on my bookshelf now:

  • Becoming, by Michelle Obama
  • You are a Badass, by Jen Sincero
  • The 5 Second Rule, by Mel Robbins
  • Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert
  • Year of Yes, by Shonda Rhimes

I’ve read these books from cover to cover. I drink in all the stories and feel some strange connection to the authors. And I’ve discovered that these books all have one common message: believe in yourself.

Whatever your dream may be, believe in it. Don’t let anyone tell you that it can’t be done. Believe in your talent. Believe you can make time to put in the work. Believe that your efforts, determination and sacrifices will all be worth it in end.

Sounds obvious. Right? Sounds simple? Hardly. But I’m getting there. Which brings me to my word for 2020 – believe.

I believe that I’m a good writer and inside of me is a writing project ready to come out and someday share with the world.

I believe in the power of community, particularly my synagogue and writers’ groups. I believe the more I give of myself to these communities; the more I get out of them.

I believe if I put my mind to it, I can do anything: lose weight, cook healthy delicious meals, learn to swim (again).

I believe I can give 100% to my career and family and still have time to pursue my dreams and take care of myself because I’m worthy.

In this new year, I plan to put all that I’ve learned from these books to good use. My heart is full of hope for the future. All I need to do is believe.

5 am wake up call

Tomorrow morning, swim season starts which means Andrew has to be in the pool at 5:30 am. Yes, you read that right…5:30 AM. Tonight he needs to have his swimsuit, goggles, cap and towel as well as a change of clothes and everything he needs for school by the front door.

And – we have to remember to set our alarm clock.

Thankfully, we have a neighborhood carpool. What are the odds that 3 other teens on the swim team live in our neighborhood? One of them lives 3 doors down. God bless all the swim moms and dads! No matter how much we love our kids, no one wants to get up at 5 am every day and drive to the high school. Thus…the carpool.

We take the morning run because both of us work full time, and it’s hard to leave on time for a 5:30 pm pick up. Oh! Did I forget to mention, there is after school practice too? Yep! 5:30-7 am Monday through Friday and then again from 3-5:30 pm. These kids are nothing if not dedicated to their sport.

And they are such nice kids. I couldn’t ask for a better group of people for Andrew to spend his time with. Swimming is such an individual sport, but they are all part of a team. They cheer each other on from the pool deck. They celebrate their victories and mourn their losses like the teenagers they are.

And a shout-out to us swim parents too who drive them to practice and meets Sit and cheer each other’s kids on in their heats. Volunteer to be a timer or a runner during the meets. Work the snack bar. Host team breakfasts and pasta dinners for 50 or so kids on occasion who come for the food and the friendships.

And we make sure they have their swimsuits, goggles, cap and towel by the front door every morning at 5:30.

Here’s to an awesome season!

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