I used to think of myself as a lazy person. Thanks to my then-stepdad, I’ve heard that word used to describe me for a good chunk of my life. I grew up believing there was something wrong with me.
I often had no motivation, even if I so badly willed myself to possess it.
On the days I did go to school, my mom had to drag me out of bed, I didn’t do my homework, and I didn’t participate in any after-school activities (there were slim pickings anyway). I spent my days locked in my room, writing, drawing, surfing the internet, and playing video games.
But I never counted those activities as “doing something with my life.” They were just things I loved to do. Even though I weaved stories, drew characters from my imagination, and dreamt of publishing a book one day, I felt like a failure.
Day after day, I watched this man get up early and head to work. He never took sick time. He made a good living financially. You’d think that’d motivate me to do the same, but it only made me doubt my ability. Then the insults he spewed only dug a dagger deeper into my heart.
I never knew what my stepdad wanted out of me. He’d always tell me to get out of the house and basically get a life…but where was I supposed to go? What was I supposed to do? The nearly-desolate town we lived in didn’t provide many options. I felt safer at home in my little bubble, daydreaming and telling myself stories.
Trying to make sense of his advice, if you can call it that, only made my head spin. He was quick to tell me how I was in his eyes but never showed me how to better myself. Never demonstrated that action trumps words. That motivation is unpredictable and unreliable.
Motivation is not something to strive for. To strive for motivation is to wait for a rainstorm to water the plants. If you live in the desert like me, you’ll be waiting a long, long time.
Discipline is what’s needed. To make a pact with yourself and say, “Okay, today I’m going to do *this*, then tomorrow I will do it again, then the next day and the next day.” It’s not waiting for inspiration to strike; it’s striking with or without it.
Once you build momentum, it’s okay to slow down, just don’t give up. One day of effort (even in small doses) may not seem like much, but wait until you see your progress weeks or months from now. That’s what you’re striving for.
Who knows, maybe if I had worked on one story consistently every day and didn’t listen to both my dads at the time (my biological one telling me not to pursue a writing career because it was unsustainable), I would’ve published a book at 18, maybe sooner if I got lucky, just like my mom said I could.
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Sorry to know how they made you feel. You are enough.
You did great with your life in spite of your Step-Father! You over came so many challenges !❤️ You got this!❤️❤️