Starting Over Again

I move too fast.
I’m super impatient.
I want things when I want them.
I don’t like to wait.
I want things to happen the way I have it planned out as soon as possible.


Apparently I am.
My mom said “there’s nothing wrong with moving slowly S.”
I guess I never really thought about it.
I never stopped and thought about the fact that maybe part of the problem is that I rush things.
I work it out in my mind and I decide that’s what I want and I try to make it happen.
Even if it’s too soon.
Even if the timing is off.
Even if it’s not the best decision.
I make it happen.

When it doesn’t work out like I wanted, I get upset.

She’s right.
I don’t take it slow.

Tonight I had to take a step back.
I had to analyze and assess the situation.
The situation is not good.
The conclusion is that I made a mistake.
I thought I was ready to get back out on our own.
I thought I could make it work.
I knew it would be hard but I wasn’t comfortable, I wasn’t content with where I was.
So I made a rash decision to get out of there.

I’m talking about our move into my parents house then quickly back out.
I never wanted to end up there to begin with and when I was there all I could think about was getting out.
I didn’t really have a plan.
Just get out.
Do it because I can.
I’m strong!
I can do it.
I can support the four of us.
Mind you at this point I was receiving little to none and if any, very sporadic help with the kids.
Who cares though?
I don’t need anyone!
I can do it on my own.

The reality is that I can.
I can make it.
Very uncomfortably in the ghetto.
I sure can.
It’s not the life I want for any of us though.
Not even close.

I was told a few weeks ago that our lease was not being renewed.
Blessing in disguise?

So I humbled myself again and I made a plan.
A twelve to eighteen month plan.
I wrote it down and I read it over with my people.
It makes sense.
A year will feel like forever but it will fly by.
I hope…

I’m blessed.
I’m blessed to have people.
Loving, supportive people.
People that extend their hand each time I fall.

It isn’t ideal and it’s definitely not where I thought I would be at 33 but I’m Starting Over.
Starting at 33.

Wish me luck.




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