Bad Ass – The Fear

I’m a bad ass.

Or at least I’ve been reading a book called ‘You are a Bad Ass’ by Jen Sincero so that’s basically the same thing.

It a self-help book, about cutting out what drags you down in life and only seeking out high frequency opportunities. Or at least learn to recognise when to take them.

This blog has been high frequency for me over the last 12 months. Pouring out my emotions and ups and downs, my neurosis, my crazy. But I think something happened, that I did not expect or intend. By writing down all those things and looking back on them, I started to see a pattern form. My overzealousness (is that a word?), my ‘quick to flirty banter’ nature, my overthinking, they were all getting in the way of my happiness.

Jen Sincero writes that you have to go through the rough before you launch into the life you truly deserve. I can demonstrate that in my life. I think I’ve unwittingly been following her guided path for a few years: starting out with the separation from my son’s dad, buying a house that was a run-down. I got a promotion. Then I got another promotion. In the meantime I’ve met several men, all lovely in their own right, but currently the only man for me in this moment is GG. But it hasn’t always been plain sailing. I’ve had to fight bosses who are just mean/horrid people. I was off work with depression and anxiety for 6 months. I’ve never had enough money to do up my run-down house so it’s taken me 5 years to get where I am and it’s still not finished. I now have to live with my ex and my cousin being together. I’ve been hurt and humiliated by men.

My current life dilemma, is whether to give up coaching football. My son doesn’t want it anymore, and so it is a lot to commit to when you were only doing it for your son in the first place. Problem is, I love coaching. I manage the team, and although I’d quite happily live without the planning and organising, I don’t want to stop the fun stuff, kicking the ball around a field and watching my boys develop and progress. But if I stick to the principles of Jen’s ‘You are a bad ass’ then I need to trust the process and understand this is what the universe has in store for me.

And I need to recognise the time that football takes up as additional free time and therefore, an opportunity. I’ve been thinking about some ideas. My friend and I formed the basis of a business idea last year and whilst I kinda made steps to begin building it, the whole idea trailed off because it was just too hard.

Too hard? I single-handedly raise a boy, maintain a house, keep a resemblance of order, I manage a large team in a very busy police force successfully full-time and have laid down the foundations and built a football team successfully in my spare time. Renovation wise; I have tiled my bathrooms, re-laid plumbing, cut down tree’s, transformed my garden. In amongst all that, I have dated, cared for my grandparents and maintained relationships with friends, despite it being a weird year and honestly, climbing inside my cocoon was liberating!

And I suppose it is all relative. Somebody who doesn’t have children, who lives at home or two parent families or those with no responsibility other than for themselves could consider my life hard but setting up a business is easy.

Well, the business idea is my fear. I have no idea where to start. Who to approach. How to explore. What it takes to kick start it off the ground. The other stuff comes to me like second-nature. The bad-assery that Jen Sincero refers to is about pushing through the fear. The fear of failure. The fear of what people will think of you. The fear of how to get started. The fear of what people might say, your friends/family. The fear of imposter syndrome telling you you’re not good enough.

I’ve struggled with this blog over the last few weeks/months. Not because I have nothing to write about, because I have. Always. But because what I can write isn’t really in keeping with the content of this blog.

I feel like a fraud. I fear that my regular readers will be like – ‘Yo! Dis Boring man! ‘

But if blogging is something that makes me happy and tunes into my higher frequency, would should I let that fear stop me?

So…there may be a transition of sorts coming. I can’t say for certain that my blogging content will change or if it does, I can’t describe what it might be right now, but I certainly won’t be letting the fear stop me!

Get Jen Sincero’s audiobook on Spotify:

Just let me vent!

So my sons dad has been seeing my cousin. I mention this in Post Christmas Blues. A Rant! My 1am pity party was swiftly drawn to a close and I got on with life. Fast forward 4 months and not only has he moved less than 100 steps away from my own house, he’s moved my cousin, no wait, HIS SON’S Cousin into his house and he’s not said a dickie bird to me. Not that I need to keep tabs on what he’s doing, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to know who my son will be spending time with when he’s not with me.

I’m so tempted to ban dad visits, never before have I felt this wound up about something. Never before I have I even thought about using my son as a weapon. Never before has I thought my son would be better off without his dad. Never before have I considered that my own free time is less important than his dad. But here I am, considering for the first time using our son to hit him where it hurts.

I won’t of course. Because my son needs his dad more than I need vengeance.

But my walks, my local, my Tesco, my chippy, my Chinese are now all tainted with the fact I could walk into either of them in any of those locations at any time. Urgh! This means always having my hair done, always having my make-up sharp and always being dressed to kill!

It sucks!!

Because I’ll be damned if I see them both together looking like fine wines while i’m a half empty can of red stripe. No idea why I’m using alcohol as a metaphor, maybe it’s my subconscious giving me a hint on how to cope in the short term? You know what’s worse. It’s the shame of it all. The cousin comes from the wealthy half of my family. The hoighty toity brigade. Whilst I cannot believe they don’t really see the shame in it, possibly because they see me as the black sheep of the family, so in their eyes he has upped a level…(pahahahahahaha all fuckidiots), in mine it’s like some Jeremy Kyle shite. ‘You slept with mine and my sons cousin and me at the same time’ So who here really has the wrong values, we were together for 14 years, is nothing off-fucking-limits?


Help. Please???