Moral of the story?

For the life of me, I don't understand why I debate myself over things that I love. I'm my own worst critic, and I'm excruciatingly hard on myself. I literally freak out every time I open my mouth to sing. This is not due to stage fright or a shyness of singing for people, but I think it's my brain contradicting itself and causing panic over being "good enough" to actually do what I want to do in this world. I'm having a mild early 20's crisis, and basically, I'm soul searching to decide what I'm going to do with my life. I have dreams that may seem unattainable, but at the same time I have a passion for something that I dearly love. The idea of not doing what I love as a career terrifies me, and yet, at the same time trying to do what I love causes the exact same panic. I'm becoming certain of the fact that I've held myself back due to a tug-of-war effect with fear. I have a brand new album's length of songs, and instead of booking gigs and playing, I literally stay stagnant while my mind is telling me that I need to improve this or that before I'm "good enough" to go out and play. I've retreated into this shell of an inner battle and I never thought I would be that girl. I know the steps I need to take, I know what I need to do and how to do it, but even with the clear cut neon sign in front of my face, I keep freaking and miss out on opportunities because I'm worried about going for it. It's absolutely ridiculous how much I stress over this. I stress over the very thing I love doing most. I question everything I write, every chord I play, every melody line I sing. It needs to stop. Instead of loving the accomplishments I've made, I analyze them. Instead of loving the entire music process like I used to, I've forgotten the joy it brings me because I  have little meltdowns over it.

I had a vocal lesson Friday morning, and I just needed it. Every time I step into that building, I'm at peace. I'm happy. Always. I'm so grateful for Dean Kaelin and his ability to "get" me when I sometimes don't know how to explain things. The first ten minutes of my lesson were spent with me spilling my little meltdown story, and instead of looking at me like I was crazy, (my poor family doesn't know what to do with me...), he knew just what to say. Just what to say. Totally detangled my mess of a blurred explanation and helped me sort it out more than I've been able to in months. He has never given up on me, and he pushes me and makes me get my voice places I don't think I can. So, so, so blessed to know and work with him.

Dear self, it's time to get the ball rolling. Moral of the story? Stop freaking out.

Meet the studio + the wagon wheel. <3