A quitter’s track record

A quitter's track record

I'm a pro at internal justification on why it's okay to quit.

I'd like to start this by saying that I don't view myself in the negative light often seen by the phrase "once a quitter, always a quitter." My mom summed it up nice in her reflection after editing my post (yeah! my mom still proof reads my stuff!) by saying "You are not a quitter and you have never been a quitter. Rather, you’ve taken many different paths in exploration of your true passion."

February 14th marks one year as an operable Wichita with Love, LLC.

Maybe I made a mistake by not making a five-year-plan. Perhaps it was crazy for me to think I would simply be able to wing-it. I’m sitting in my queen bed, hardly large enough for both me and Jared (not to mention our sprawled out pup, Quinn), on day three of my fourteen day social media *detox.* I wish I have never challenged myself to this. I wish i could just give up.

Wait…. STOP!

That… that is the problem.

No, it’s not the social media hiatus; it’s constantly reasoning with myself why quitting is an OK thing to do. Shit, now that I’ve diagnosed a problem, I have to figure out how to solve for it.

Looking back on the last 25 years, my record is not free of failed attempts and white flags flown while I fled in the opposite direction. When I was a sophomore in high school, I quit volleyball three weeks into the season. I thought the junior varsity coach sucked. (Granted, this is the reaction of a 15-year-old.) My junior year, I quit basketball three days before practice even started via email to my coach while I was three states away. I don’t even remember how I told my best friends on the team… I have had my ears pierced THREE TIMES, because the first two times I changed my mind and didn’t like them. I’ve quit a job suddenly twice--once after only three days. I’ve even given my proper two weeks warning and quit, even though I had nothing lined up after. I’m literally a walking quitter. Let’s not even get started on all my cancelled gym memberships.

In reality, I’ve been lucky enough to have my family catch me when I’ve fallen. I had the financial ability to take a semester off work, so I only had to focus on school. I 100 percent know that my privilege is nothing to take for granted.



No. Sorry my emotional jotting is only me searching for my answers. It’s like sitting in a room with one other person and that other person is talking out loud (and not to me).

The last year and half have been me readjusting to a public social media world. The prior five to six years were spent in a social media private lockdown. Posting photos so publicly online of my house, my dog, my whereabouts, my husband and my FEELINGS is f*cking terrifying. I feel like in bits and pieces I’ve told my story as to why, but maybe that will be another reflective blog post in the future. I really need to think about it.

It’s hard to be vulnerable. On top of that, it’s hard to not be doing anything innovative or new with my business. Literally any mom with a Cricut machine and an iron could make a girl power tee. This first year I have learned the ropes. Jared and I are successfully figuring out taxes and how to file and organize receipts to make next year even easier. My website is still a hot mess, but my shop is functioning very well. My interaction on social media remains high, though currently I’m suffering from a lack of content, so I’m really focusing on that. And through WWL, I’ve made some really badass new friends.

TLDR: I’ve not given up on WWL. Instead I’m trying to be more mindful and reflect on the road behind while climbing the mountain in front.

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