I’ve been pretty proud of myself lately!
I’ve made some big life changes (moving, living solo for the first time, becoming single again) – all things that a past version of me would’ve been too swallowed up with self-doubt to even consider. But I did that. I drove a whole moving van into London myself. I am 100% that bitch.
Some days, the self-doubt doesn’t even come knocking! And some days, she sneaks her way in round the back when I’m not looking like the little scoundrel she is.
I’ve been working on a project with Instagram that I’m genuinely proud to be a part of, and one of the things I’ve had to do is look back on my seven (yes, SEVEN) years on the platform and reflect on everything I’ve done.
I am not generally a fan of looking back over huge chunks of time and analysing exactly how efficiently I have used that time. No ma’am, doesn’t sound like fun to me. I’d rather take my chances eating poorly prepared pufferfish, if it’s possible to swap.
Alas, no fish. So, there I am, looking back over the many years I’ve been using social media in the way that I do, my brain naturally seizing the opportunity to point out all the things I could have done, but haven’t.
Enter the self-doubt voice, saying things like:
Well, you really could have written more books, if you had more commitment.
And why did you never do those weekly groups you always thought about? People probably think you don’t really care.
Why don’t you have your own charity by now? Why do you still have no idea how starting a charity works?
Surely you should’ve had your own tv show by this point (obviously you don’t work hard enough).
People who’ve been doing this for less time than you have built whole businesses off their platform. You still don’t know what you’re doing.
What’s the next step? What’s the plan? What if everything collapses? What if people decide to stop supporting you? What if you run out of things to say? What if your time has passed? What if you don’t matter? What if you never do anything that matters ever again?
This entire spiral took about 7 seconds. *thumbs up emoji*
And you know what? There was a real warmth to it. A familiarity. Like getting all cosy in an old blanket that I know I’m allergic to but the itch feels good.
I am so used to self-criticism that it feels like letting an old friend back in who never treats me well but that’s what I believe I deserve, so I let them stay. It’s taken me a couple days to remember that I don’t have to be that version of myself anymore. I decide what I deserve. I decide who stays. I am 100% that bitch (moving van, remember).
So, this is me pulling myself out of the spiral and shouting back at that voice, louder than she could ever be:
I wrote a whole motherfucking book when I was 23 years-old that has been translated into 5 other languages and changed people’s lives.
I have spoken across the world, to audiences of thousands, to classrooms, charities, radio and tv shows, I even wrote and toured my own original live show that was pretty fucking spectacular.
I have given back every chance I get and navigated some super morally questionable situations with integrity and honesty every time. I could have lost my values along the way but I haven’t.
I have tried my best to only accept opportunities that are right for me and have always advocated for other people who deserve more recognition when they weren’t.
I have never seen my audience as a way to make a quick profit and move on to the next thing. They may have gotten foggy at times, but my reasons for doing what I do have never changed: I want to help. I want to empower, reassure, and create change.
I have done all of this and more for seven years, whilst being a carer for my sister, a support system for the people I love, and managing my own mental health alongside all of life’s complexities.
I have navigated this path without anyone walking in front of me. I have grown thick enough skin to weather an amount of judgement that no one human should ever have to receive. I have been completely broken by it and I have rebuilt. So many times. I am a fucking badass and I am enough.
I am so enough.
There are things I still want to do. I’m deciding to trust that they will happen when they’re meant to. I’m deciding to celebrate what’s there, before I search for what’s not. I’m deciding that I’ve done exactly the amount I should have done by now.
Telling myself I should’ve done more won’t help me do more, anyway.
This is your invitation to meet that voice in your brain with a louder one. A compassionate one. A nuanced one. And one that is on your side.
You get to decide whether you are enough (spoiler: you are, have been, will be).
You are 100% that bitch.
Love (& so much appreciation for you being here),
M
💜
WE ARE 100% THESE BITCHES
Love you and thank you.