I don’t fail well. For all Lachlan’s resilience, he didn’t inherit it from his mamma. As a child if I wasn’t naturally good at something I instantly wanted to give up. And when I didn’t succeed, the internal reprimanding was intense. As a thirteen year old girl, whose friends were her world, I failed to make the school state netball team that would compete in Sydney, where ALL my friends would be playing, because they made the team. So in a way only a thirteen year old girl can, I had a my-world-will-soon-end meltdown, because I wasn’t good enough, because I was missing out, because I felt so much like a GIANT failure. Thirteen year old girls don’t have much perspective.
With time, I’ve learned my strengths and for the most part, I’ve learned to stick to them. And while this has been a great strategy in preventing thirteen-year-old-girl-meltdowns it also means that I’ve avoided stepping out of my comfort zone. For eighteen months of full-time mammahood I’ve been safely cocooned within the notion that if I give my very best to Lachie, as his mum, then that will be enough. But my feet have been itchy and my mind has been wandering, eager for stimulation, for a challenge. And yet when a challenge presented itself I hesitated. Unsure. Despite knowing that I was capable. Despite having the piece of paper to prove it. And the family support to back me up. Despite it all, I hesitated. Because I was afraid of failing. Terrified in fact.
Yet two weeks after taking the leap into the grey of part-time self-employment I couldn’t be happier that I did. It’s early days yet, I know, and there will be challenges and no doubt failures ahead, but I feel like the biggest hurdle has already been overcome. I stepped outside that comfort zone. And began.
What about you, are you good at pushing yourself beyond what you know, what your comfort zone?