There were so many times in my life where I have struggled. I mean really, truly, intense struggles. For a good part of 2012 I was feeding my family from the food bank. We were in deep. To say that I was stressed would be an incredible understatement.
I had struggled a lot. I was battered by a boyfriend, dealt with family issues, depression, anxiety, and years of feeling worthless. When things were going really well in my life, I could work my way up to striving. That’s what the wasband and I did, we strived. I had become a stiver.
And I prided myself on it. I owned it. I was a badass awesome striver. I could strive like nobody’s business. I knew how to live off of almost nothing and still make life decent. No matter how bad crap got I could still find a way to persevere. I could overcome. I was admired because of it. People were impressed with my striving. People like strivers. And I loved it. I loved the attention of being a striver. I loved being admired for overcoming. I loved being admired for my resilience. I loved being admired for working hard.
And I did. I worked hard. I worked my ass off. I strived until the cows came home, and it didn’t seem to make any difference. I would strive all day every day, and not feel like I had gotten any further ahead the next morning.
And I was tired.
I was tired of striving. I was tired of being stressed. I was tired of wearing my body out. I was tired of constantly being anxious of whether or not I was going to have food in the fridge or be able to pay the bills. I was tired of feeling guilty for buying myself the things that I wanted and needed. I was tired of the fight.
So I detached.
I realized that I had become attached to being a striver. I had to give it up. I had to let go of the attention, and admiration, and of the fight.
And once I did, the abundance started flowing in. I know it can for you too. firstname.lastname@example.org