So today, there was nothing more I could squeeze in but a 20-minute walk around my neighborhood. Officing from home can be great and convenient, but during busy tax season the stress and anxiety build up fast — and my soul starts screaming for open space.
I’m back in therapy, and that has opened my eyes to what has been going on. Cool and relaxed Lupe went right out the window after turning 50. The only thing my brain seems to lock onto is taxes — how messed up is that? Everything else gets my attention for about as long as a squirrel. I’m learning that my fierce attachment, fear of abandonment, anxiety, and tremendous impulsivity isn’t me being “too much.” There’s actually a neurological reason behind it. Some of it may even be hereditary, definitely shaped by trauma. I’m just wired in all the ways — and that’s OK. I love me for being me. And the scariest part? As I’m learning what’s going on in my brain and building better boundaries, I’m terrified I’m going to lose myself. Part of what makes me me is the fun, outspoken, active, and adventurous Lupe. As my fuck bucket loses weight, will I become a bitter old lady — or more of the badass I already am?
Why don’t we ever talk about this openly in networking groups? This is real shit that affects business owners. Someone with ADHD — or even on the slightest edge of any neurological spectrum — is more than likely an entrepreneur, a business owner, because our brains don’t fit in a traditional box. We are the ones who can stay up all night, think, strategize, not eat, not sleep, fail, fall, drop, and roll — and get back up with a smile to do it all over again tomorrow. Because we are just built different. When do we stop apologizing and startlearning? There is nothing wrong with how we run our businesses. Hell, it makes us that much better. It’s how we deal with our relationships, our loved ones, and our own self-care that we have to learn to work through.
Hiking helps me think through all of that mess. It’s my therapy — along with my therapist, of course — but it’s that open space that doesn’t judge. Doesn’t care what I look like. Doesn’t care about my size or my speed. It’s just there, welcoming me, loving me, giving me an open platform to pray, to breathe, to praise, to scream, to cry — without judgment. Getting lost between the trees does something transformative. There aren’t enough words to explain it, and honestly, I don’t even want to — because it’s mine. We have a saying among my hiking sisters: what’s said on the trail stays on the trail. I take all my baggage, all the weight, all the guilt, all the worry, all the anxiety, the impulsivity — I take it all and leave it at the trailhead. It doesn’t stay there, of course. But that’s exactly what makes me go back again and again.
And this weekend? I’m starting something new. I’m planning road trips — real ones — to trails I’ve never hiked, spaces I’ve never breathed in. Not because I have it all figured out, but because I don’t. I need to reconnect. I need to heal. I need the kind of raw, real self-care that only happens when you throw your bag in the car, point toward something wild, and just go. Watch this space — the adventures are just getting started.
Runmom_6 