blog

On closing doors…

/ micahdl / Leave a comment

This is what I know.

I know I don’t really want to do this anymore.
Not like this. Not here. Not in this shape that asks me to convince people that birth can be better or that I’m damn good at what I do, even if I don’t fit the mold so much of Texas asks of me.
I know I’m tired of explaining myself—my values, my beliefs, my right to not call myself something I’m not.
I know I don’t want to wear a label that doesn’t fit just to get hired.
I know Texas makes it harder than it needs to be. And I’m done fighting that uphill fight.

I know I don’t feel that spark for birth anymore.
I know I’m not bad or broken for feeling that way.
I know I have given enough—my nights, my weekends, my passion, my presence, my sleep.
I know I have two more births in me this year. After that, I’m reclaiming my time.

I know I’m afraid of messing up—of saying the wrong thing, of disappointing people, of a bad review.
I can’t count the times I’ve said something stupid or embarassing or even potentially offensive or harmful. I don’t mean to. But it’s happened. And I hate it.

I know I can’t please everyone. I know I’m human. I know my work is good, even if my mouth forgets the script sometimes.

I know I am exhausted.
I know closing this door will let my bones rest.
I know something else is waiting for me—quieter, freer, softer.
I don’t know what it is yet (though I have an idea and I’m hopeful).
But I know it’s not this anymore.

That’s what I know right now.

On knowing when to call it…

/ micahdl / 1 Comment

I’ve spent a long time hustling—pouring my heart into birth work, chasing some dream of making it matter enough. Make enough. Mean enough. Be enough.

But lately, I’m sitting with the truth that this version of it—this constant on-call, always-available, scraping-by energy—hasn’t been giving back to me. Not financially. Not emotionally. Not spiritually. I’m constantly frustrated with trying to make my business something it just isn’t, can’t, or won’t become. I’m tired all. the. time.

I almost feel like I keep going back to a shitty ex.

Like, the moments when I *do* get to do the work or I *do* get a consult request or I *do* get a nice review, I feel so excited and so proud of myself. So sure of the work that I’m doing.

But the in-between times? They’re frequent. And long. And I tend to place my value and my worth in whether or not I’m fully booked. Do people like me? Am I really actually good at this?

Constantly thinking about what to post about on social media or what to blog about for my website or how the fuck I’m going to pay for all the services I need just to keep my head above water…I hate it.

When I picture stepping away from it, I don’t feel panic.
I feel calm.
I feel free.

And that surprises me.
I thought I’d feel sad.
(And I do, a little. More than a little.)
But mostly? I feel relief.
Like my nervous system is exhaling after years of holding its breath.

There’s grief here, yes.
And there’s also wisdom.
I know now that I don’t have to keep beating a thing just because I once loved it.

I’m allowed to outgrow a role.
I’m allowed to want more.
And I don’t have to hustle for my worth.
I already have it.