When I was younger, I just wanted to be famous when I grew up…

I’m sure many people born in the 80’s heard the same old thing. The only jobs that were worthy of our time was doctor, lawyer, or a career requiring years of college and a lot of effort in educational or athletic endeavors. The big insult was “you’ll be flipping burgers.” It was such a prevailing idea that you had to become someone rich to be a productive member of society, I’d said I wanted to be an actress for years.

My high school drama teacher would repeatedly crush my hopes to tell me that I was not good at acting even after I was cast in minor roles in school plays by the other drama teacher. I’d move on from hoping I’d be an actress to wanting to be a journalist. I’d always been interested in writing, but I wanted to be on TV. I didn’t care about my writing as much as people knowing my name and my face. I wanted strangers to love me. Some part of me probably originated this blog in hopes of becoming famous or some sort of internet sensation.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I didn’t want people who don’t matter to me to express their opinions about my looks or my work assuming they have the right to do so to anyone “in the public eye.” I honestly don’t think the people who know me should be discussing those things, either. I appreciate that I’m not famous. I enjoy the people who read my blog and interact with me. I’ve never been particularly overwhelmed by comments or requests. I just like to write and share my experiences. It’s cathartic to get it out and share even if I’m somehow speaking into a void.

I’ve been in a creative slump lately despite wanting to discuss my relay race in Missouri, my upcoming functional fitness team competition, and resignation from my part time job. My brain locked my words inside and each time I’d open my editing page, I’d stare resentfully at the flashing cursor that asked me for words I didn’t have at my fingertips.

I’ve been meaning to starve my social media addiction for the sake of my mental health. I’ve done very little to help whittle down my online time. Just know that I’ve been doing pretty well and I’ve done some things that I’m proud of lately without sharing them on social media to harvest “likes,” for a hit of dopamine. I’ve had some realizations about the behavior of people.

Something I didn’t tell my social media when it happened: I got a new tattoo. I’d been thinking of it for some time. This was my first bit of creativity that I was able to get out of my head lately. Really far into my blog archives, it’ll show I drew an arrow on my left arm to remind myself to keep moving forward when I thought I couldn’t during long runs. I’d wanted it tattooed there prior to my 2017 marathon. Last year, my pastor, Mike Baker said “Faith moves us forward when the way seems impossible.” Immediately, I started to work on the design again trying to incorporate the word “faith” into the design until the word started to look strange and almost alien to me. Recently, I found a compass rose coin in a souvenir store and bought it intending to have that tattooed on my shoulder. I started to see designs incorporating the arrow and compass and I was immediately moved to work on the design again. Here is what I wound up with:

I absolutely love how it turned out.

Anyway, I nixed the word “faith” because I know the meaning and God knows the meaning.

Thanks for reading! I’ll come back this week to write some more about my running and lifting. Like I said, I enjoy writing. At least if writing were to make me famous, people would be less likely to judge my looks over my English usage. Especially the way I abuse past/present tense. Let me know if you have questions or comments.

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