The (Non) Problem with Ambition

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I am never going to want less. Or be happy with what I have. Where is the excitement and challenge in life if you are simply satisfied with what you have, without striving for anything?

I wanted to marry him, so I moved to Texas.

None of that was easy.  Not an ounce.  And in fact when I tell people we did it without an attorney they are impressed.  The fact that I nearly bankrupted myself to do it and chewed my nails until they bled?  I leave those parts out.

Once you’ve accomplished something, few people really give a shit about how you made it happen.

I wanted a car and now I have one.  The smelly bits of the car turned out to be an unfortunate bird way up in the skirts of my Hyundai Elantra Limited Edition with fancy leather seats.  What messes me up about my new car is that there is no key-in-ignition.  Like a dumb creature of habit, I keep trying to put my key into the bright blue button.

I’ll unlearn that eventually I suppose.  Or continue to look stupid.  Either way, life may continue.

So now I want two new things.  My wedding paid off, and a new house to rent.  We need something bigger.  My shoes are screaming for more room and every time I have to find my shoes I get smacked in the face with one of his belts hanging just above.

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If my ambition makes you uncomfortable you have the option to stop comparing yourself to me. I don’t compare me to you. I compare myself to the self I know I want to be, and grow into that direction the best I can.

And I would like some new clothes.  The last 24 months have been such a whirlwind of expenses I haven’t bought myself much of anything. In fact working from home, I tended to work the yoga pants and hoodie or tank.  And flip flops.   My professional attire (and even casual clothes) are more than lacking.

Like I REALLY need more clothes.  It’s pretty bad.

I know that is three things.

“Left turn without a signal”.  That phrase has been used to describe me quite a lot in my life.  Conversationally I can turn on a dime.  Plan wise?  I can appear to turn quickly in another direction.  It almost appears that I might be spontaneous.. even wreckless.  Impulsive (another word used to describe me only by people who don’t really know me).

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I can be sweet as pie or the biggest bitch in the world. I’m okay with that. I call it being real.

The true is I have more than a Plan A.  I have a Plan B, C, D …. Z.  It’s a stressful way to live with all these action plans in my head.  I think its some kind of residual PTSD thing.  A control thing?  Probably.  Not about controlling others but controlling outcomes.  Making sure I know what to do when Plan A and Plan B, or Plan D doesn’t work.   Plan E is loaded and ready to go… just in case.

And so I am not nearly impulsive as I may seem.  I plan ahead.  Way way wwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaay ahead.

And I always assume that if it’s something I want, it’s going to implode somehow.  So I try my best to have alternate strategies.

If life hands me lemons I want to have the schematics for the best fucking lemonade you’ve ever tasted, and a marketing plan to back it up so that I can continue on my merry road of goals… without much of a disruption.

I’m rather tired of being disrupted.  Sick of it actually.

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Preach!

I just want to ‘make it’.  I want to get into a house that is ours, and decorate it.  Get to the part where I can invite people over again and impress them with my ability to blow up Pyrex or burn pots beyond recognition.

I want to plant MY garden.  I want to take pictures of MY tomatoes and email my family in Toronto and possibly “nah nah” a little when I am planting in March in Texas.

“Check out MY TOMATOES ZIO!” Booyah!

I want to be safe.  Settled.  I’m not aiming for rich.  I’d like a fenced in backyard.  A pool would be awesome.  Okay a pool is on the list… for sure.  Also daisies.  Lot’s of them.   And I’d really like one of those grown up swings I can just sway on… and look up at the sky and find fluffy white chihuahuas in the clouds.

I’d also like a vertical freezer because mixing my meat in the freezer freaks me out a little.  And a proper linen closet (please don’t ask about the towels… I’ll get chest pains).

And I want it yesterday.  And I work myself like I can get there faster if I double up.

Truthfully?  I believe I can get there faster.  I just have to find more of me… and use those parts of me more intelligently and I can make that all happen.

And I am exhausting right?  I know.  You can see why some people completely hate my personality.  You can also see why some people find me exhausting.

I find me exhausting believe me.  I hold no grudge.

I just want to get back what I lost.  I worked so hard to own a house and nice things before and lost it all.  I just want to feel like… a 41 year old that has NOT been disrupted by circumstance.

I’m not afraid to lose skin to get there either.   Nothing happens without work.

My ambition is natural to me.  It’s not put on like a coat or shirt so that people like me.  It IS me…  in my authentic form.   I build the next wall (or goal) at the same time as I scale the one in front of me.  There is always something I am chasing that will make me happier.

Very ambitious.  And if you try to slow me down a little (even if you are concerned for me) you kind of become the enemy.    And if you aren’t ambitious and trying to grow or achieve… I have a hard time respecting you.

The girl who was told she was never “good enough” has become a woman who tells herself she is never “good enough”.

What is enough?   And how do you even remotely make time to enjoy what is, when you are building the next castle in the sky?

What if I told you it never feels like work when I chase my ambition?  What if I told you it makes me happy or that I feel alive?

I understand why women pull back from friendship with me.   Or why I feel more comfortable with business owners and entrepreneurs.

I refuse to apologize for my ambition anymore.  You do what you want (I do not judge others for having a constitution that is different than mine).  In fact truthfully, I envy them frequently.

There is the flat road and there is the rocky road that leads up the mountain of life.  My feet are shredded… but the view is incredible.   To me, it’s worth the blood.

And somewhere in the world is a mother and father who very much want me to fail, so that I follow in their footsteps instead of succeeding in spite of them.

Or I could just be okay with whatever … right?

Should I be apologizing for going after everything I want with everything I’ve got?

The thing about me is… the contents match the label.  Always have.  Always will.   And there should be no surprise that I am unwilling to diminish myself or my drive for the comfort of anyone.