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One day I hope this page is filled with the words of ***************. Originally I was going to beg her to write me a foreword even though she doesn’t know me from Bob. But life is life and I poured a yearlong plan down the toilet because I didn’t want to send her a half-arsed version of something I believed was worthy of her time. I thought I’d send it to her in January 2019. But then school holidays had my writing life put on hold and I presumed she was probably going through the same. So I waited until February. But then she started training for bloody *********************** and how in the holy hell was she going to find time to share her opinion, let alone give a shit about some random trying to get a book out into the world? The woman has enough to deal with. In the end patience (dickery little arsehole that it is) has been the key. So I hand it over to the universe to weave some woo-woo magic in the hopes that my work finds its way to ********* and she thinks it’s semi cool, relevant and relatable enough to pen me an encouraging word. Hopefully she is in a space to receive it and see it for all the potential goodness it will bring to humans in general. Why ***? Because she’s a cool, courageous chick doing good for the world despite all odds and a pioneer of this unapologetically beautiful evolution revolution thing. Get on it.
I originally had that cemented with pride at the beginning of my book So You Are… Pregnant! It was my way of being appreciative in a passive, non-mosquito-y way to someone who had truly inspired me to get off my arse and tell my story without being a wuss.
Originally I had a solid plan to finish off the book and approach ********* to publish it and/or collaborate on further topics in the series (which would still be an awesome partnership to forge). She would read it, love it, love my nutso sense of humour, ask my family to hang out in her oasis and we’d talk shit about our kids and all things goddessy, sit on the beach and write, she’d paint, I’d show her some Bollywood moves and maul her dog and baby with kisses. You know.
At the very start of my journey ************** was a massive part of my goal setting plan thingy and I 100% believed that by the end of it I was going to drive to her home town and somehow get the manuscript to her. I even concocted a swat plan involving my besties Uncle and Aunty to casually hand it to her in the baby aisle at Woolies. I didn’t need contact, I just wanted to make sure it only went to her.
I was fully prepared for her not to publish me – if she was interested in that game she would have gone down that path already. But I was so confident my tale would resonate, that she might hopefully want to meet me, realise I’m not an arsehole and chuck me a little blurb in return for a donation or links to her charities, or something like that.
In my mind, no matter what response I would get from others when I shared my plan, I had never been so sure of something before. I was gonna do it and she was gonna read it and regardless of the outcome, at least I had a crack.
Lots of curve balls came both hers and my way and to this day, I am still formatting the bastard book – but the little foreword that could – still remained in pride and place until 10 minutes ago.
The other day when I was watching one of her Insta stories she mentioned how people constantly use her name to promote their own stuff and her tone was irritated and over it. My heart sunk. Of course that happens. Why hadn’t I seen myself in that light? Maybe because I didn’t consider it as a leg up – more an appreciative nod to someone I admire, without wanting anything in return. But was it really any different? In some ways it could be considered worse. A foreword in an actual book, set in stone (in print versions at least) and if the book becomes popular I’ve put her in a position where she may feel obliged to respond and who am I to presume she even wants to do that?
I also realise that writing a post about it is of similar ilk, however, this was an epiphany moment, a reminder to be a decent human and it felt worthy of a share.
She was not only part of my plan all along, but the inspiration behind much of it. This is not in any way a ploy for attention, or a tactic to sell books, or drive traffic etc. It’s more a light bulb moment that no one is on tap just because you have similar ideals to them.
This has all come about from my chicken shit inability to communicate with other humans where I am in a vulnerable position to fail. No idea why I’m like this, I’ve been successfully failing most of my life. In the end – if I put my little faux foreword in – I’d be unravelling all the things I admire about her and why I find her so relateable. It would be a cheap move. If our paths are meant to cross they will. But, I’ll leave it to the stars.
So that’s that.