Once upon a time, I was the kind of person I didn’t like very much. I was lazy, expecting the world to fall down in front of me despite doing nothing at all to deserve it, and I had a real problem with acknowledging my own screwups.
That last one shouldn’t have been a thing, either, simply because I had so many screwups, I should have been well-practiced in admitting them. But no. I wasn’t.
Then my son was born. Looking down on him, I realized that it was time to get my crap in order. I couldn’t afford to screw up the rest of my life because it was screw up his life too. It’s one thing to sabotage myself, but doing it to another who had no choice in the matter? No, I couldn’t do it.
So that meant it was time to figure out what I wanted out of life. What I wanted to be when I finally grew up….even though I was 28-years-old.
To be sure, I had these lofty ambitions start to form, but things didn’t change. The reason? You have to start small. You have to change the habits.