How an offer to share my writing helped me shift from scarcity to abundance

Have you ever spent years – maybe a lifetime – wanting something that just doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen?  That wanting comes with deep feelings…frustration, anger, despair, hurt.  Then maybe we attempt aloofness – pretending it doesn’t bother us.  

Ignoring emotions or desires doesn’t make them go away, unfortunately.  When we ponder the pursuit of that elusive thing, the feelings come back in one form or another.

I have one of those.  I almost hate to say it, because it feels like I’m violating trust or airing dirty laundry.  There’s a fear – and desperate hope – that I’m wrong.  Maybe he’s reading this right now.

That would be both wonderful and terrible.  Terrible because of what I’m about to say.  Wonderful because I’d love it more than I can express.

My father doesn’t read my work.

I’ve been angsting over this for more than a decade.  There have been tears and rage and hurt.  This year, I’m working on acceptance and this is one thing I’ve struggled most to accept.  To understand.

But not long ago, I had a realization that it will be okay.  That maybe, in focusing so much on what I was missing, I failed to see what was right in front of me.

Inspired by failure…

Did anyone else out there start their career focused on making their parents proud?  I’ll raise my hand high for this one.

I failed spectacularly at the beginning of my tale.  I had a full scholarship to George Washington University and a 4.0 at midterms.  After the wheels officially fell off the bus, I finished that first semester with a 1.67 GPA.

The years following were spent trying to make up for that first failure.  To make my disappointed father – who I now know was worried I was following his footsteps (he also was asked to leave college and not return) – proud.

…to change the world

That same father inspired my writing journey.  Not the writing specifically, but the idea that we can change the world around us one person at a time.  

I still recall a story he told me in my 20’s about how he changed the Marine Corps during his 30-year career.  Those are some big shoes to fill, but it wasn’t enough to be like him.  I wanted to make him proud by taking what he did well beyond the military.

My life’s purpose is to be able to say that it mattered that I was here.  Not in some big, flashy way, but in the manner of pebbles in the pond.  At the end of my life, I intend to have had countless far-reaching impacts that made the world better because I was in it.

This is why it’s been so important to me that he read my work.  Each of these articles is a pebble.  I may never know everyone who has been touched by my work, but I know each article is an opportunity to help at least one person.  

Over a decade into writing, the world is a different place because I’m in it.  I’d love for him to know and believe that the same way I do.

Focus on the closed door…

I’ve been staring at that closed door for years.  I’d send links to articles picked up by Smartbrief, or ones that he inspired.  Each time, I’d be sad because of a lack of response or engagement.  Hurt. Angry. It was a cycle of grief I kept creating.

Then I started dating someone who reads my work.  He’s very supportive and highlights the parts that resonate most.  He openly shares articles with his family (Hi Mom!).  I’m regularly asked what I’m working on and how soon I can share it. 

During a conversation back in November with my girlfriend of many years, I was talking about the holiday posts I was working on.  I mentioned that the BF was reading them and she wanted to know if she could see them too.  As I shared the themes of the posts – a common thread that she had helped inspire – she was adamant that she wanted to read them even before they were published.

Huh.

I was so focused on the hurt.  So focused on the gap in an important relationship that I missed the support I had right in front of me.  If I was only willing to open the door.  I was so conditioned to believe that folks in my circle wouldn’t support me that I didn’t ask or offer the opportunity to share my work.

…and we miss the open window

How many people would love to be counted among our friends and supporters, but we miss out because we’re so focused on a closed door?

Too often, we fixate on what we lack.  Or maybe on potential hurt or the downside of risk.  These scarcity mindsets mean we miss out on opportunities to find joy.  To deepen relationships, create connections, or feel supported.

The most vulnerable parts of us stay hidden too much.  Maybe we feel safer that way.  I know I do.  When we allow those closest to us to see those parts – yes, we may be disappointed or hurt.  But what if we’re not?  What if for every one person that disappoints us, there are 3 more offering exactly what we need most?

Let’s not spend so much time looking at a closed door that we miss the opportunities that surround us, waiting for us to notice. 

Dad, I hope you’re reading this.  I hope you see that I’m following in your footsteps and changing the world around me one step at a time.  Even if you never read it, I know you’re proud and supporting me the way you know how.  I’m working on that being enough. 

In the meantime, I’m learning to let others provide me with support, constructive feedback, and inspiration.  And if even one of you is inspired by this article to look around you for those waiting in the wings to do the same, then I’ve added another pebble to the pond.