Life Lessons with Monica: A Swing and A Miss
I was rejected. Told no. Dropped out of college, and convinced myself I would never return. Learning was a foreign idea to me, something I was convinced wasn’t possible to continue. What the hell did I really know? Forgive me for the vulgarity in that moment, but truly, what did I really know?
We as a society set a standard of what is considered respectable, worthy, and notable from any one person based upon what degree they have, what field they have studied, and what “Qualifications” they have per the opinions of those in charge. This has become one of my greatest setbacks, not only in the physical world, but also within the confines of my mind. When I began looking into what it was going to take to be noticed by a literary agent, by an editing company, by a publisher, I found myself incredibly beaten down. I do not hold degrees. There are no letters that come behind my name. I have knowledge and experience and insights that I have been sharing with my family and friends for most of my adult life. I have been in the role of someone seeking advice, but I too have been in the role of someone being sought out to give advice. I have assessed people and given them love despite having darker aspects to who they are. Sometimes to my own detriment, sometimes to the detriment of the people I love. Yet all of those things, all the things I have experienced, all the lessons of life that I have learned as well as the growth that I have endured within myself, does truly give me a level of knowledge and understanding that many do not. This is not me speaking in bravado or my ego yelling to be noticed, but it is me knowing who I am and what I contain within.
These things that I know and lessons I have learned, I have begun offering to others whether it be through personal communication, through this blog, through my social media pages, whatever the medium that I choose to use at any one point in time. I have begun helping others and sharing, teaching while also still learning in the school of life. Yet, there seems to be some sort of insurmountable mountain in front of me, one in which I must climb with only my bare hands and feet. A mountain I have named “Societal Acceptance.” I am required to make sure that when I present the synopsis of my novel, that I am able to say that I am more than simply a Stay-at-Home mother, which fyi, there is absolutely nothing simple about that role. I have been in that role longer than any other in my life and it is working a 24/7/365 job, not many people are cut out for it, and I have nothing but respect for all those doing this job. Unfortunately, putting Stay-at-Home mother on a biography to a literary agent is not something they are interested in when it comes to Self-Help/Prescriptive Nonfiction novels. Perhaps because of assumptions, perhaps because they believe lesser of those people, the reasoning is within them, not within me. Could I allow this to diminish and defeat me? Absolutely! Am I going to do that? Not a chance!
Don’t get me wrong, that first rejection letter stung my heart and soul deeper than I expected it to. I even told my husband, “I expect so and so to reject me.”
He responded, “Well, don’t think that way! You have to stay positive!”
“No, it’s alright, really. I look at it like an initiation of sorts. It means I really have made it into the authorial world.”
HA! Okay, so granted the rejection email was kind, simply saying he didn’t have the time to successfully represent my project right now, and he graciously stated he hoped I would be successful in securing enthusiastic representation I am searching for. It was as kind of a, “Sorry, but you just need more polishing than I can put into something right now,” response as possible. Call me Negative Nancy if you must, but I have this gift of being able to pick up certain energies, and that was the energy that came written between the lines of his kindness. Other agents I have reached out to have left me waiting for the crickets to start chiming in. Silence, the resounding rejections. The day my first true written rejection came to me was not the day for it to come in. It was the moment of being kicked when I was already at a lower point than I have been since. I was pouring my pain and negativity about myself and my abilities out in page after page of messages to my husband while simultaneously raging at Spirit, my Spirit Team, and truly just raging at myself. Ready to throw in the towel on my dreams (did I mention it was a truly terrible day for me), and being cheered on to continue forward from my husband. I immediately fell back on my old habits of self-sabotage, self-loathing, and then apologizing to my husband for having emotions. Does all of this sound ridiculous? Or does it perhaps sound familiar to you?
Either way, I am here to tell you that I know it was ridiculous, but it was anguish and pain. Old pains, old wounds, seeping from me in tears, words, and screams that brought my voice to nearly fading. I don’t think that all the messages I have been continuing to receive telling me it is time to use my voice, share my voice, was really meant for me to do in this way. It was one of the most painfully cathartic days I have had in a long time. Ancient wounds, ancient tears, flowed through my heart and out through my tears, my words steeped in the deep wrongs of my life, whether through my own actions or those of others, and the injustice I have felt for far too long. It was after this that I found my voice once again.
It has been a long time since I have sat down at my computer and just wrote. Shared my life, my lessons, with you all. This has been for the sake that the world has knocked me down, kicked me while I was on the ground, and I lost my way while being in the darkness. As it so happens, I was enduring another phase of my Spiritual Awakening journey, and something I have learned is that when you swing for the stars, sometimes you miss. Sometimes in life, we do not receive what we thought we desired. When the next thing that comes in after, we come to realize, a swing and a miss can truly be the best thing to happens to us. When I lost sight of the goals of my book, found myself hyper focused on the only course I was able to see for it, and fueled myself with rage at injustice, it was then that I found myself right back down the rabbit hole of a Dark Night of the Soul. I needed to endure a very serious reevaluation of myself, what I am here to do and be, and whether this book was something that was actually going to help a single person if I continued along the path that I was on.
Want to know a secret?
I damn near burned the whole thing to the ground with my anger and pain and lack of understanding. I was angry at my ex-husband for his lies and malice, in pain because this man that I once loved could not find within him a shred of empathy, sympathy, authenticity, nor love within the four walls of a courtroom, and a lack of understanding of why he couldn’t simply love our children unconditionally without thinking of himself first, last, and always. I lacked understanding of how the judge could justify bringing my daughter in, swearing her in, and then sitting her on the stand to tell her that I was raising her to speak her truth, to advocate for herself, to use her voice, and that it was exactly what I was supposed to be doing and exactly what my daughter should be doing for herself, but he was not going to allow her to step into her power in that room. He swore her in to tell her he wasn’t going to allow her voice to be heard. He chose to ignore traumas, ignore pains, and sidestep years of proof of abuse. Why? Because my physical abuse ended when my marriage ended. My emotional abuse ended about a month or two before we were in that room. This moment, this pain, the cries of my daughter as she collapsed in fear laced anxiety when she found out she would be forced to go back to a home that was not safe for her or her brother, opened within me a tidal wave of moments from my past in which I was in the position of my daughter. Not in exacting measure, but when my sense of safety has been robbed from me. When my innocence was stolen from me. When my empathy and trusting nature was used and abused for the purposes of another person. I began doing timeline/inner child healing. It helped and hurt simultaneously.
It is said within spiritual teachings that when you endure a trauma in life, a part of your soul breaks and can be stuck back in that time. Emotions of it never able to be expressed, and you walk through life with a sense of incompleteness. During these meditations, I had a vision. Looking back upon my timeline, I saw hundreds of pieces of my soul that were yearning to be brought back into the whole. It was through that I had to come to terms with what my life had been up to about five years ago. Now here I sit on the other side of it all, and I am telling you that I am healing. That I am whole, if not a little scarred for awhile as I continue to do the inner work I need to do, but I have learned many valuable lessons about life from these experiences.
Don’t allow a swing and a miss to stop you on your way through this life. Don’t allow a setback to unravel all the successes you have had in your life. Do not give up on healing yourself and making your dreams come to fruition. It is not an easy journey, but it is a beautiful one and I am grateful for mine, and if no one has told you today or any day recently, or ever, I am grateful for your journey. Do not ever allow someone else’s short sightedness to make you feel as though you cannot do something, for those are people who do not know your power and capabilities. You know your worth, so stand up in your beautifully unique and authentic self and make your dreams into a reality. Hold onto your vision of the future, and make it happen. You are more than capable and there is no one else who possibly could because it is your future. These are the lessons that my most recent sojourn into the darkness has taught me, lessons I now pass along to you for your growth. As always, I am grateful for you.