THE ME I HATE

I hate the me who screams at her kids, rushes and hurries them up, is continually a few minutes behind on EVERYTHING, and puts that stress onto them.

I hate the me who tries to do so much at once, all the time, why can’t I just be normal for a HEARTBEAT and not try and run the entire world before most people have barely even opened their eyes.

I hate the me who stares ahead at the day and thinks – “again. Why TF am I thinking I need to do all this stuff AGAIN?!”

I hate the me who writes the same repetitive ass lame boring shit every day, what, like you think you’re so interesting Kat? You think your message ever has anything new to say? You think YOU ever have anything new to say? No! You do not. You just churn out the same old shit everyday! Why do you think you need to write EVERY day, you should stop!

I hate the me who is still after all these years obsessed with her body, wanting to look a certain way, feel a certain way, have it all, how dare you?!

I hate the me who is so committed to routine, to discipline, to structure, to doing the things that work for her, while at the same time simultaneously somehow I hate the me who is so all over the damn place, messy, chaotic, disorganised, NEVER on top of things!

What is up with that?!

I hate the me whose day is so full it feels like running a race, but yet at the same time who refuses to not do ALL the stopping, pausing, self-care, naps, you name it!

I hate the me who thinks she needs to crush being a single Mum AND and an amazing badass entrepreneur AND a great friend AND a great Christian AND have an amazing home AND a worthy partner AND how much freakin’ longer can I keep all these balls in the air?!

I hate the me who insists she never have weakness, like sugar, or wine, or whatever, but who at the same time refuses to buy into an idea of NOT getting to have what she wants!

I hate the me who is such a walking contradiction, so much so I want to roll my own eyes at MYSELF!

I hate so much,
for a moment in time, whenever that moment happens upon me, I hate it ALL.
I want to scream and shout and tear myself and the world apart and drop drop drop it ALL, every last bit of it.

And why the fuck are the people PEOPLING like that today?! So annoying. Are they TRYING to irritate me? What’s up with the birds chirping, too, while we’re at it!

And then –

When the moment passes, mostly just a blink of the eyes and it’s gone,

sometimes longer,

either way,

when it passes,

here is what I actually feel –

I love the me who knows she can do it all, spin the world on its heels before breakfast, in 6-inch stilettos if she likes (although probably usually in her fluffy pink slippers), and then dance on top of it before anyone else even wakes.

I love the me who runs through life half breathless so much of the time, lungs filled and soul charged with the joy of full LIVING.

I love and adore the me who is a walking talking living breathing example to her kids that you can do ANYTHING you decide,

all while cruising around town with a fancy teacup full of coffee in one hand,

building empires out of nowhere all the while smashing a workout most would run from even looking at, keeping house, putting healthy meals on the table and then still dropping all of it to make up silly make believe games and stories and hilarities, with them.

Who tells them she doesn’t care about homework, but refuses to allow them to back away from resistance or avoided when soul is involved.

I love the me who is so freaking disciplined, day after day after day, to sit her ass in the chair 360+ days a year, year in and year out, and DO THE DAMN WORK SHE CAME HERE TO DO because she knows the joy and power and release and FUCK yes of the writing outweighs ALL of the ideas in her head of why she shouldn’t,

and that she adores every BIT of it, it’s only EVER the voice of devil, fear, ‘you’re not good enough, still’, which tells her she’s too repetitive, its pointless, and nobody wants to hear that anymore, and MEANWHILE –

just being committed to the art above her own bullshit has built her this empire.

I love the me who knows that when she just STARTS, starts writing, starts training, starts playing, starts cooking, starts BEING the person her soul wants to be and her human self is perhaps moaning about, that the flow ALWAYS kicks in,

she can breathe again,

yes.

I love the me who yells at her kids even! Who can then talk about it with them, and show them what it means to be human and how to learn and grow and flow through that!

I love the me who is messy and chaotic and random and all over the damn place! Who has no idea what TF she is doing most of the time, is truly even after all these years still just making it up, throwing shit against the wall, let’s see what it happens, whoops, there’s another million there, hello, there’s a big ole splat on the floor over there, shit, there you go saying stuff that’s making people hoppity on the internet again, oh well!

I love the me who feels like the smallest baby Bambi sort of Christian even after knowing God my whole life, who simultaneously can see herself in ministry but yet also feels like she knows NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING at all, and I wonder if the other grown-ups think I’m doing it right?

I love the me who shows up every day, in every situation, for the life she knows is available for her. Yes it’s been fucking painful for years spending time as the single woman, the single Mum, more painful still when you’re not included because obvs it’s a couple thing and maybe you’d rock the boat, more painful still the endlessness of not having that person to just LEAN on, let GO on, so done with always feeling like it’s on me to hold the whole world up and be who I need to be for EVERYONE, all while having a standard of excellence for myself, BUT –

more painful STILL though would be to have kept on living the wrong life in fear of being in the void before allowing the right one in.

I love the me who STAYED THE DAMN COURSE. Who held out ABSOLUTE certainty that if she just refused to say yes to anything less than what she KNEW God had in store for her, that that man beyond all men would appear, THE man, HIM, 1000 x 1000 more incredible than even the most endless list of things she would have asked for, and NOW look –

He did.

Because I do.not.settle.
I do.not.compromise.
I do.not.back.down.
I am UNSHAKEABLE on who I am.
I back myself FULLY.
I AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN DO WHAT OTHERS WON’T,
and so of course I live like they can’t.
I love the me who walks away ruthlessly, like a cold heartless bitch, from ANYTHING and ANYONE who doesn’t align with what she knows is right for.
Who walks away ruthlessly and with IMMEDIACY from any part of life which doesn’t match the vision.
EVEN WHEN SHE CAN’T SEE THE VISION.
But she can feel what’s right,
what’s yes,
and what is not.And I love her for it.

I love the me who has spent a lifetime already, and will spend a lifetime still, continually just adjusting. 0.001% by 0.001%. Into the everything she has seen inside of her,

no matter how scary,
no matter the price to pay,
no matter the confrontation or rejection which comes from it,
no matter the oft-MADNESS of it all, the mayhem.

I love every part of it.
I’m so proud of myself for EVERY LITTLE PART OF IT.
I am so proud of the woman I am.
The Christian I continue to learn how to be.
The entrepreneur creator artist messenger I can’t NOT be.
The kind of Mum I have CHOSEN to be, and continue to let go more around each day and allow myself JUST to be.
The partner I now get to be, with the man God chose for me.
And the everything,
everything,
everything,
I create.

The mess.
The beauty.
This is life.
This is me.
This is you.
This is SOUL.
That’s all.
Amen.