Big Chicken

by Mom in the Arena

Oh my goodness, guys. I just ran away, didn’t I? I don’t even know how it happened…I just got scared and let fear get the best of me. I would love to say it was only in regards to the new blog, but in all honestly, I got scared in real life too. I felt small, overwhelmed, and at at times like an idiot for getting myself into this crazy lifestyle.  When things got scary, I should have kept fighting ( and kept writing to keep myself sane), but instead, I went into survival mode. I did the bare minimum to keep my business going, and rather than fighting to get ahead,  I told myself it was too hard and starting looking for an exit strategy. What a chicken shit way to live, right?

Little background…

When I was in high school, we were having a house party when my friend’s parents were out of town, lots of loud music and underage drinking going on..cops come…group of us hide is a closet. The police officer knocks on the closet door. I am terrified,  praying he will just go away. Next to me, a friend shouts out to the police, “No one here except us big chickens!”

I am so sad to say, that pretty much sums of certain moments of my life. I have these sudden burst of energy and bravery..and then BAM. I turn back into a big chicken.  I don’t know what happens…most people around me don’t even notice, but I can just feel it and it feels like a ton of bricks on my chest. The first step to getting over it, is first realizing I am in it. It was about 4 months ago when I realized I was in major funk, my energy was down, and it was affecting the energy at my office.  It just hit me…these people, my husband, my family have worked their asses off to get us this far and I am ruining it because I am a chicken shit. What a waste.

I just snapped out of it…I wish I knew how so I could pass along some words of wisdom, but I just woke up, had a few cups of coffee, and knew I had to be brave. I just had to be. I had to put every thing on the line so at least if I go down, I know I went down fighting and trying and not hiding in a coat closet with a drunk 17 year old trying to grab my ass.

So, here I am, back in the ARENA. In the middle of the arena…not flattened against the colosseum wall, praying the lions don’t see me.