Ode to Tammy

I went to bed before 8 o'clock last night. I slept until six minutes before my alarm was scheduled to wake me—nearly ten hours. I woke up with a migraine. I lounged in bed longer than usual, and then finally got up to write today's post. 

 I am exhausted. This challenge is stretching me. I haven't posted my work for twelve days straight in the history of my blog. I've written two hundred some days without a break, but not all of those days' writing was audience ready, nor did it have to be. The challenge of this month's writing is that it has to be reader ready. Every day.

I took my migraine medicine and stared at the editorial calendar that I'd drafted to guide me through the month. Nothing inspired me. My head hurt. My neck ached. I looked at the clock and felt a mild panic. Must write words. Must get it ready before I leave for work. Must shower before I can leave work. I mean, look at this bed head. This is an approximation of the self-talk I heard. 

 

And then I got a call on Skype. Divine intervention is a better name for it. Tammy and her toddler girl. They wanted to talk to me before seven a.m. I described my dilemma. Headache! No words! Getting out of bed late! 

 

Tammy is a gift. She talks me down from every ledge. Every time. A few minutes into our conversation, I convinced myself that passing on the morning writing and working on my post after work would be the best thing. I was right. I'm so grateful that I am getting so much better at knowing what is best for myself and following through. 

 

Tammy and I reflected on how long she's been encouraging my writing life. She reminded me that when we visited in person two summers ago that she told me that I needed to write fiction. Long before Christa and Dan pushed for the novel writing there was Tammy. 

 

“That afternoon we spent together I remember you were walking in front of me telling me why you couldn't write fiction. I just rolled my eyes.”

I laughed at her exasperation with my self-induced limitations. 

 

Readers, pay attention. When you have big things you want to accomplish or don't think you can, you need a Tammy. Go searching for her. Your Tammy's encouragement and truth-telling will be invaluable. I promise. 

 

This is the transcript of a text exchange we shared yesterday. It is precious to me:

Tammy: “You know how Glennon (Doyle Melton of Momastery.com fame, whom we both adore) has Sister? I kinda want to be your sister person.”

Me: "Uh, duh...You already are."

This friend loves me an extravagance that takes my breath away. She encourages me, holds me accountable, tells me the truth even when I don't want to hear it. But she does it with such kindness and care that I know I must listen and that I'll be better for hearing it.

Under all of this is the foundation of belief. This woman believes in me. She believes I can do this writing thing. She's believed it for years. I have no idea where my writing will take me. I have no idea how many readers will learn Astrid's story, but what I do know is that Tammy's belief in me has made me want to shoot for the moon.

I don't always understand how she's come to believe all of this about me, but I am getting so much better at deciding the hows and whys aren't really so important. When you find yourself with a fan club, just trust that they are seeing you more completely than you see yourself and go with it.

Keep writing, fellow 31 dayers. We're near the half-way mark. We can do it!