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Apr. 28th, 2024 06:27 am37 sure feels like the age of self-advocacy. Late last year I gathered my courage and asked my boss what it would take to get the next promotion. I also reminded him again and again that our pay band had been forgotten when they redid the rest of our department's descriptions and bands -- as well as our mini team's job descriptions.
Then there was the ER visit and almost emergency gallbladder surgery, where I maybe foolishly asked to schedule it instead. But it turned out I was right about my own body (shock) and everything was fine.
Knowing I wasn't ready to return to Crossfit yet and actually following through and letting the coach know and taking the time I needed. The subsequent workouts after I'd returned where I felt something was off and, instead of pushing through like I would have in the past, asked for an alternative movement.
All the little self-advocating for my social needs inbetween, with going to those book club meetups, write-ins, and events.
Then, of course, this recent decision with regards to my publishing career. Easily the hardest decision I've had to make in years, but also the most important.
And, almost too small to mention, but yesterday I asked someone at the new B&N how to be a part of the local author events. I was shaking afterwards (I wish that kind of thing didn't freak me out so much), but also a little giddy. Now I just have to follow through with the contact info they gave me, but that first question is always so hard.
I was just chatting with my mom yesterday about how much better my 30s were from my 20s. She mentioned, as someone in her 70s herself, that her 40s and 50s were really the best. I've heard that echoed from so many others as well--that life gets better, in general, as you shuck off any remaining fucks to give. I thought I'd shucked them all with therapy, but I guess I'm still shucking. Someday I might even not have to celebrate when I perform any of the above-mentioned self-advocacy.
Then there was the ER visit and almost emergency gallbladder surgery, where I maybe foolishly asked to schedule it instead. But it turned out I was right about my own body (shock) and everything was fine.
Knowing I wasn't ready to return to Crossfit yet and actually following through and letting the coach know and taking the time I needed. The subsequent workouts after I'd returned where I felt something was off and, instead of pushing through like I would have in the past, asked for an alternative movement.
All the little self-advocating for my social needs inbetween, with going to those book club meetups, write-ins, and events.
Then, of course, this recent decision with regards to my publishing career. Easily the hardest decision I've had to make in years, but also the most important.
And, almost too small to mention, but yesterday I asked someone at the new B&N how to be a part of the local author events. I was shaking afterwards (I wish that kind of thing didn't freak me out so much), but also a little giddy. Now I just have to follow through with the contact info they gave me, but that first question is always so hard.
I was just chatting with my mom yesterday about how much better my 30s were from my 20s. She mentioned, as someone in her 70s herself, that her 40s and 50s were really the best. I've heard that echoed from so many others as well--that life gets better, in general, as you shuck off any remaining fucks to give. I thought I'd shucked them all with therapy, but I guess I'm still shucking. Someday I might even not have to celebrate when I perform any of the above-mentioned self-advocacy.
