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There are so many inspiring people on the internet these days.  I follow a plethora of life-coaches and people who blog constantly about doing what makes you happy.  But all I can think about when I’m watching their videos and reading their blog posts is this:

I don’t know what makes me happy.

Not really, seriously, deep down in my soul happy.  I can think of a handful of things that make me smile, or that I enjoy doing for short periods of time, but nothing that makes me feel satisfied in my soul.  I don’t understand what that even means.

I know I’m a creative person.  Inside my head, I’m creative.  But I don’t know how to let that creativity out.  I’m hesitant.  I don’t want to try to do things I might not be good at.  I’m partially scared, and partially lazy.  But I do want to find out what it is that I enjoy doing.  Maybe there really is something I can do with my life, something to make me feel successful, something I can enjoy doing as a career.  But how do I figure out what that something is?

When I’m reading blog posts or watching videos by productive, happy women, I do feel inspired.  It feels like the sun is rising inside my chest (but not in a WTF-heartburn kind of way), like the sky is so incredibly blue and beautiful that there isn’t even a crayon in my collection to compare with it.

But I don’t know what to do with these swells of positive emotion, and they fade away.

I want to know how they do it.  I want to know how they harness that creativity and positiveness, and how they knew what they wanted to do with their lives.  Did they ever not know?  Were they ever lost and stuck in a menial job that they didn’t enjoy, just going through the days and sometimes wishing they would just be over because maybe tomorrow, even though it promises to be just like today, will somehow be better?  Or were these women born knowing?

When I was a kid, the only thing I ever wanted to be when I grew up was my mom.  Also a waitress.  I practically grew up in a restaurant (also a bar, but we won’t go there today), and I loved going to work with my mom and helping her out in the kitchen.  I loved helping the waitresses set up for breakfast before opening.  But never in my young life did I aspire to do something great, or even good.  I never wanted to be an astronaut, or a doctor, or anything at all.  I mean, I wanted to be a famous singer because Madonna was totally living the life, but didn’t we all?

Somewhere down the road that’s been my life, I lost my ability to let out the silliness, the goofiness and gigglyness that was the hallmark of who I was.  I used to shine like a nonsensical explosion of weirdness and fun.  I don’t know how to have fun anymore, I guess.

It’s summer.  I feel like the possibilities are endless, but I don’t know what to do with it.  What if I choose wrong?  What if I don’t enjoy myself?