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How Did I Get Here?

A Journey to Success...

By jess NewtonPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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I'm just me, and that's OK

How did I get here? A woman of 27, a mum to three beautiful children and partner to one adoring man. The same time every year there is an urge for change bubbling away in the depths of my soul, something needing to be tweaked at, changed, even. Never feeling satisfied with just how far I have come on this journey called life. Living my life, always chasing after my next move; could this be the next big thing for me? Could this be the one that makes me successful? I'm like a donkey chasing a carrot that's being held in front of its face on a string.

A year ago, I sat crunched up in the corner of my leather sofa snuggled into my fleecy white blanket, lights dimmed down, brew sat by me, wondering how I could begin to start sharing my passion with the world. I knew in my heart writing had always been at the top of my list of passions in life, but who would want to read my writing? All eyes on me, reading my thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams seemed like a world away, yet here I am today writing for you, sharing those exact things I thought I could never bring myself to do. Over the festive period I found myself setting up a blog, writing about my life and my children, but something was still missing. Was it the platform? Was I trying to reach the wrong type of audience? All valid questions, but I was still left with no definitive answer. All I knew was my gut was telling me I desperately needed a creative outlet and writing was it.

This year I stumbled across the most amazing woman who helped me find my own strength during my darkest days. She gave me hope when I was ready to throw in the towel and call it a day. That very day, a spark was ignited within me; it seemed everything I had searched for my whole life was already within me, I just had to take the path of challenges mixed in with blind faith to get to the point where the veil was lifted and I could finally see again. 26 years of turmoil, self loathing, and many challenging relationships with the odd, beautiful moment thrown in to keep me afloat, and here I was, seeing myself and the world around me in a new light. A glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could be successful at blogging, or writing a book, even.

Whilst doing some major soul searching, a lightbulb clicked on. Passion was the answer. When living out my passion, how could I possibly go wrong? It's what I loved doing. I had practiced it all my life, all I had to do was make sure I poured so much love and passion into my writing that whoever read it felt the matched love and passion filling them up with my words. So off I went etching away at a new website, a new blog sharing my thoughts on life. It reached more than my last, but it still wasn't quite there. How could there be even more? What else was I missing? Another lightbulb moment came along. I had spent so much time worrying about impressing anyone who would read my writing, constantly drumming over the next amazing idea to write about, that I forgot to be fully and unapologetically present in that very moment. I had stopped being grateful for every step along my journey and how it had either shown me I was on the right direction or going off scent. I was there again, chasing after success.

If I had stopped to smell the roses and taken a look at the beautiful journey I had walked along these past few months, I would have realised that with every blog post I was whipping up, I was practicing my tool, sharing wisdom and creating, and to me, that is the meaning of success. Taking the time to put myself out there, taking a step into the unknown and laying my soul bare to everyone who stumbled across my words. So many people are scared to live out their passions in life; I decided I didn't want to be one of them.

Success has a personal meaning to everyone, but to me... the fact I am here writing for you and you are reading this entry means that I am successful. I asked, I believed and I am continually receiving. You can too.

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