Now Beyoncé could well be an 'earth mother' for all I know and what exactly is that anyway I hear you cry... to me it's a wade of days ahead of me filled with fun times with my kids.
I write prolifically (a skill I honed as a busy screenwriter over the many years in the TV and film industry)- and as friends often tell me, I tend to appear to be EVERYWHERE online simultaneously (what can I say, I'm good at scheduling folks)...
If you want to succeed in business- and in life, you need to have a purpose, you need to work out what you're passionate about, what feeds your soul- and potentially your tummy (we all need dollar) and then you must work on finding the strength, means and time to make that dream a reality.
Urgh, right now it feels like greater pressure- on top of weight pressures- to not be able to actually admit I'm feeling down about my weight going up!
A lot of people keep mentioning 'success' to me lately, some kindly comment that they feel I'm successful- and while that's flattering, it's made me question how I personally deem and measure success.
How sisterly are you. Really? Do you share those 'Be Kind & Be Brave' Pinterest posts then forget to practice what you preach?
I wanted to share my sister code with you so you can 'check yourself before you wreck yourself'- and potentially your relationships.
I've pondered a while whether I should write this post, air my views and explore a subject that frankly, needs more airing and exploring. A grey area I've shied away from writing. For fear of being judged, of being considered 'too white' to have experienced racism, for fear of not being taken seriously.
Let me start off by stating this post applies to Dads too, it's just 'Father Hustler' doesn't sound as cool as Mother Hustler and you know Mama's got some street cred going on right here so let's stick with it (ha, as if).
Every mother will suffer from the dreaded cringe-worthy 'mum guilt' at some point in their lives, as will fathers, making parental guilt something we all seem to wrestle with.
Guilt, we all get it, it's inevitable, part and parcel of being a parent but it doesn't need to eat you up, consume you whole and make you feel totally BAD rather BAD-ASS.
So today I bumped into an old boyfriend in the post office, as you do (this never happens).
It was really sweet seeing him again, especially as the last time we met up was about 17 whole years ago-and now we're 35 and 36 respectively.
Wow.
