Growing up for me has been a gradual process. Now, at the age of 45, I think I may have grown just enough to have some things figured out.

For example, I’ve figured out that there is no Monday to Friday job in the world that will ever match the beat of my heart. No employer, no company manifest, no salary that will ever make me care enough to give my all when working for someone else. I’ve tried. I’ve tried and I’ve tried. I’ve towed the line and always, I come back to this truth within myself. It’s not just the knowledge that I as an employee am disposable and replaceable, but my employer is also disposable and replaceable. They don’t own me. I, in fact, get to choose. And if I must work to support my life and lifestyle, then I choose work that allows me to balance my actual life, my family’s needs, my home’s needs, my own personal needs. I choose to focus on my personal life balance, I choose against any role or position that tries to dictate my time.

I’ve figured out that the most important thing to my growth as a person is to make time for my creativity. If I’m not being creative, I’m not being myself. If I want to connect with my heart, with my intuition, with my soul, I must make art. When I don’t have time in my life for creativity, I am dead inside. This is not life nor living.

I’ve learned that it’s not about the hustle. The experts are always out there telling you to hustle hustle hustle, to have a sense of urgency, to act now. Hurry! But, I have learned that this is not the way. Not a starting point, at any rate. I have tried and failed so many times, in so many ventures, because I’ve listened to the experts instead of to myself. Whether it was a “fool-proof” money-making venture that didn’t match my personality, or one that was actually enjoyable and creatively stimulating, I have looked failure in the face each and every time. I used to ask of failure, Why? Why me? Why can’t you let this work for me? And failure would reply, Quit being such a whiny baby. Quit being the victim, pull your pants up and figure out the why.

It took years to learn that it’s okay to be imperfect, to make mistakes, to have typos. It’s ok to take a circular rather than linear path to getting things done. It’s okay for my path to be messy, as long as I remain on the path.

And it took years. Years of growing and removing emotional layers and reading and learning. And listening. It took years for me to figure out all these stepping stones to living as a real grown up in my own life. To set boundaries with people who just wanted to take. To admit when my resentment was just a mask my jealousy was wearing. It took years of deep diving to transform my gut from a barren dessert into a lush oasis, to know that there is an inner voice, to be willing to listen to it above all outer noises.

But it’s only recently, as in this week, in the newly-minted year of 2025, that I figured out that my heart has been out of play, sidelined and neglected. I knew, on a cerebral level, that self-love was important. As a mom, I’ve actually been touting it for years. Long ago I figured out that a mom that doesn’t make time and space for herself is an unhappy and unsatisfied mom. Long ago, I adopted the metaphor of filling your own cup as my own. And, naturally, it’s because I took those steps that I was able to unburden myself of so many of my built-up layers. But there is a difference between knowing a thing and feeling a thing. Like, you can read every self-help book, listen to every podcast, say every mantra, but until the feeling–the essence of the thing–seesps into your very blood and bones, it will always remain as a thought bubble above your head. Known, but not known.

So the thing I have only just figured out, that my heart has not been in the game, is new information to me. And also, it’s the key to everything. It’s the piece of the puzzle that I lost when I was five years old and henceforth forgotten, only now refound, leaving me wondering where it has been for all these many decades. I think about how some people never lose it, how some find it much sooner… but also how some find it much later, or never at all. Given that, I feel so grateful to have found it now, in mid-life, when perimenopause has my patience for bullshit at a minimum and my desire for truth at an all-time high.

The truth is that I have not loved myself. The truth is that although I knew self-love was needed, I was not practicing it at all. I was not exercising that heart muscle, I was in fact ignoring it altogether, bypassing it on the highway between my mind and my gut. The truth is that my heart has been reserved for my kids and my dogs, but when asked to look at myself. it is greatly out of practice. The truth is that this lack of self-love is the answer for it all.

Why have I failed?
Why didn’t those ideas pan out?
Why do I struggle with relationships?
Why do I only feel myself when I’m alone?
Why do I hide under the blanket of my introversion?
Why do I get jealous?
Why do I get so frustrated with other people’s imperfections?
Why do I need to control?
Why do I bertate myself my blunders?
Why can’t I find more meaningful work?
Why can’t I find more fulfilling work?
Why do I struggle to earn a higher income?

The response to all is simply, a lack of love for myself. It is the answer to everything. Without love, in no matter what I do or want in life, I will always fail. No amount of hustle, no amount of urgency, no amount of action or effort will bear any fruit until I first open my heart to myself and allow the light to shine in. This is the part that all the experts leave out. Maybe it’s just assumed. Maybe they already love themselves, maybe they can’t imagine a world where a person might not.

But I didn’t. And I haven’t.

And I can sit here and do some googling and write to you ‘5 ways to love yourself more’ except that I’m still a novice in this department. I am sitting here and writing instead this admission, as a way of keeping myself accountable to me. This is my goal for 2025, my promise to myself: Don’t forget your heart.

I will do the job, I will do the task, I will pick up the dog poop and do the project and clean the toilets, but first, love.

I will listen to my boss and take my me-time and read my books and make my art and taxi my kids, but first, love.

I will clean my kitchen and buy my groceries and write in my journal and help my husband and drink my coffee, but first, love.

I will fail, and I will love.

I will hurt, and I will love.

I will resent, and I will remember to love.

I will remember to take the off-ramp to my heart, and I will listen to its beating, and be grateful for it’s effortless working on my behalf. And I will love.

I will pray, but first, I will love

-mtg