#3 :abandonment
I abandoned my baby business on a Wednesday afternoon.
Rebel Wellness was my dream. A community of women who wanted to take back their health and find their own brand of rebellious self-confidence. My dream was based on a simple presumption, that until that Wednesday seemed like a pretty safe one, that I would be able to run my business the way I wanted to: in person.
Rebel Wellness was a way for me to do classes, retreats, workshops, and small group gatherings where people would tackle the difficult topic of self-love. When the world closed down, I was just back from the most beautiful retreat in Costa Rica, where I had mapped out the next few years of events and gatherings. Met in the Atlanta airport by the CDC employees with an arsenal of thermometers. Life was changing drastically, and I had no idea what that meant for my business, my life, my vision.
I did my best to move forward.
I tried to make it work.
I shifted to an online model: Zoom meetings and impromptu “coffee gatherings” and digital programs. I sat in front of my computer, locked away in a room by myself, and felt the heaviness of a deep malaise setting in.
This is not what I had planned.
(Ah, this will be a key theme in my writings, I dare say….)
It was not what anyone had planned. Each day I felt more and more like my dream was dying and I was becoming more and more disillusioned by self promotion, social media and how people were treating each other. The connections I was making through digital channels felt fake and inauthentic. I yearned for eye-contact.
Each day became a struggle bus kind of struggle.
What made Rebel Wellness great was not me. It was a great movement company because of the alchemy that happened when we gathered together as women. Without those connections, Rebel wasn’t at all my vision.
I let it go. I left the business in a box on the steps of the church and I walked away to numb my prickly disappointment.
I still feel the loss of this endeavor. The loss of the dream. The loss of the identity I had created for myself as a self-love pioneer. It sounds overly-wrought and dramatic but admitting defeat broke my heart.
I came so close, and yet….not what was planned for me. I have been through the stages of grief several times, in many different technicolor combinations.
Like everyone, I am moving forward. I am putting one foot in front of the other and I am reimagining my life, my goals, my dreams.
Just like aerial acrobats, sometimes we just need to let go of one bar before we grab the other bar. I might be currently in slow motion in the space between letting go and embracing the new, but knowing that I am right where I am meant to be is enough.
