Hi. I see you. 👀
You. Walking down the street, looking like you have it all. Coifed hair. Nice shoes. Perfect makeup.
Good job. Good relationship. Nice car. Pretty house. 2.5 kids, dog, picket fence.
Glazed over eyes, just going through the motions. Numb. Numbing yourself with Facebook, instagram, candy crush.
I see you. You think you’re invisible, but you’re not.
I know you. I was you…and at times I blend with you like a chameleon.
There’s a vibration that you feel…like there’s something more…
But you almost feel guilty.
You have the life that others want.
Yet…the longing…it wakes you up in the middle of the night.
The longing for freedom.
Freedom from the key fob to get into the building.
Freedom from the cubicle, the fake smiles, the absolute vanilla life you lead.
Yet…you’re comfortably numb. You go through the motions. You know the motions.
Sometimes 8.5 hours pass, and you don’t even realize that they’ve passed. You’re on autopilot.
You can’t even say you’re excited about the weekend, because it’s more of the same.
Who’s dream are you living? Yours? Theirs?
Look, I get it. I’ve been there for 42.5 years. I went to the college that I was expected to attend (and lasted one year.) Then I took the safe job in the bank, worked my way up the ladder, and hated my life. Then I went back to college, got a 4 year degree and a shit ton of loans to end up working in dental offices.
This isn’t me judging. I’ve CHOSEN to play it safe, to live down to people’s expectations because it’s easier, it’s expected.
But
It
Is
Killing
My
Soul
And what’s just as bad…is that it’s silencing my voice. Which means that people are living a vanilla life because I haven’t taken my place in the world.
And that fucking hurts worse than anything.
If any of this resonates with you, if it pisses you off, we need to have a conversation. Stat.
Do not pass Go.
Do not collect $200.
Shoot me a message.
Or don’t. Your choice.
But this train is pulling out of the station. You’re either on it or you’re not.
If you choose to join us, you have to get rid of the vanilla mentality. You have to choose to be a little wild…a little crazy…and perhaps add some chocolate syrup to the mix.
Now I want ice cream.
Anywho…shoot me a message. Leave a comment. Let’s spice things up a bit…figure out what sets our souls on fire.
Deneen White 