boss bitch · Chronically Cool · Moving Mountains · Personal

Are you living in fear?

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We hear a lot about fear these days; too much, really. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. No fear or terrorism, or fear of our U.S. neighbours’ election — but fear of shaking up my own life.

Just this week, I launched my Etsy shop. This is a huge leap for me — a leap of faith in myself. And I was absolutely terrified. I still am terrified.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m learning how to run a business as I go along. No matter how much reading or planning I did, I was never going to feel ready or prepared — but I was letting fear stop me from trying.

So I decided to just go for it.

My small business is something I’d been thinking about and working on for several months already. It came to a point where I needed to set actionable goals and just get ‘er done.

Notice I say actionable goals.

For example, I made an announcement on my business Instagram setting a launch date for my shop.

Making a list of what needed to be done was the next step. Then I just had to take action, tick off one item at a time, and make it happen. And I’m proud to say I did.

It’s great to have goals. Laudable, even. But what makes dreams come true is action, plain and simple.

You can’t make something of yourself if you don’t do. 

The past few days have been scary. My amazing boyfriend has had to calm me down more than once. But, with only a few orders under my belt, it’s already really rewarding; it’s already worth it.

Today, I challenge you to reap the rewards of doing something that scares you. Tell me about it, if you want. 🙂

Chronically Cool · Moving Mountains · Personal

The Closest I’ll Get To Skydiving

Sometimes your illness forces you to jump out of the plane. So to speak.

I’ve dreamed of opening a shop on Etsy for about 10 years — ever since I was a teenager, when  Etsy was a much gentler beast.

Over the past few years, it’s something that started floating around my brainspace more often. Like a sensible person with no bodily barriers (or so I thought), I figured I would save up and eventually quit my job to follow my dream.

Yeah.

The problem with that plan is that I was already sick. I didn’t realize how much of my day-to-day weirdness was symptomatic of pushing my body too hard — but it was.

In terms of my health, I’ve been at a pretty low point for a long time. It’s crazy to think I’d do anything to be able to walk 30 minutes even once a week , when I used to love racing against myself to push down my 5k time. (I still remember getting under 30 minutes after someone had doubted my ability to run 5k at all; it was an amazing feeling.)

The last several months have driven home a difficult realization —  I’m not making a recovery anytime soon. Now, taking the plunge has become an act of necessity.

So many systems in my country and province are broken or inadequate. I’m much too sick to leave my apartment to work, yet I’m not considered sick enough to receive any kind of support or assistance.

So I’m doing the only thing I can think of to support myself: I’m opening an Etsy shop.

It’s been a lot of hard work, there’s a lot more to be done. But if I can’t afford to simply rest, I want to put my (limited) energy into something I love. And anyone who knows me knows I loooooove yarn.

I’ll be announcing the launch of my Etsy shop soon, but in the meantime, check it out here: instagram.com/tablehaute  .

I’m hoping I’ll be able to blog more often as well going forward, but as any spoonie knows — no promises!

I hope you’ve all had a good week so far, and that you’re looking forward to the weekend. I know I am!

 

Chronically Cool · Personal

When Things That Look Bad Aren’t

When I first got my rollator (a four-wheeled walker like this guy, for the uninitiated), I was a little iffy. For one thing, I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure how it would help, if it even would at all. The biggest thing was embarrassment — plain and simple. If everything looked normal, I told myself, I could pretend everything was normal.

No matter the charades I tried to play, the only things that had been “normal” for over two years were all my medical test results. But, still undiagnosed, it was tempting to try and keep up appearances. Eventually I bit back my pride and used the darn walker, probably on a day where carrying a purse just felt like too much.

I’m proud to say I haven’t looked back since.

A few weeks ago, the owner of a café I frequent saw me with my rollator for the first time. There was sympathy and perhaps pity in her eyes — she hates to see young people so sick, she said. And that’s when it struck me. To the people who don’t need them, mobility aids like rollators can seem like a bad thing. Especially when being used by a younger person.

“I know this looks bad,” I told her. “But it’s actually a really good thing.” With my rollator, I don’t have to worry about how heavy my purse is. With my rollator, I don’t need to worry about having to stand in line, feeling my energy drain away with each passing minute. With my rollator, I can get milk from 7-11 without worrying about carrying it home.

The stares still bother me a little, but not enough to take away the feeling that comes with knowing I won’t fall and crush my knees if my legs give up mid-stride. No matter how abnormal it looks, the darn thing just helps me feel more normal.

The same goes for people who look thoroughly confused when I get out of my wheelchair in public. Some people take the opportunity to ask about it, and only some of them do it respectfully. No matter how peeved I am at someone (looking at you, department store lady who addressed me like a child), I’m generally happy to get up on my soapbox.

I mean…what’s a blog really for, am I right? 🙂