Lately, I’ve been focusing a lot on lack. Mostly lack of money, as finances have been a bit interesting as I get things in place for some new ventures I’m starting and work to finalize details for partnerships. My tendency, much as I wish it wasn’t, is to focus on what’s missing, what I wish I had more of, what scares me. As with many things lately, however, I’m realizing that the idea of lacking something has two sides. Here’s the good side.

The good side of what I lack:

People putting me down: For a lot of my life, I have been surrounded by people who were caught up in their own problems, insecure about themselves and, sometimes, just mean. That meant I heard a lot about how inept I was. How unprepared, how unattractive, how weird or dumb or destined for failure I was. Those people aren’t in my life anymore. I have people who support me and want me to win. That’s a huge difference.

The chance of my risk taking hurting someone else: I don’t have kids. I’m not in a relationship. I’m estranged from my immediate family. I’m on my own. And while that’s sometimes lonely, it’s also freeing. I can take all the risks I want, knowing that if they fail I’m the only one that goes down with the ship. Knowing that I’m only responsible for myself makes it a little easier to try something risky.

Fear of failure: Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified on a daily basis. What if the new thing I want to try doesn’t work? What if the payment I’m waiting for doesn’t come? What if I lose my house and my stuff and my reputation? That all terrifies me. But I’ve come to realize that I’ve failed and lived to tell the tale. I’ve been at rock bottom and pulled myself back up the mountain. I can do hard things. So yeah, there are thoughts that terrify me, but the thought of failure isn’t one of them. If I’m failing, I’m trying, and I’d rather try and fail than not try at all.

Regrets: Did I always make the right choices in my life when it came to people and opportunities? Not even close. If I could go back and time and change some things, would I? No. Not all of it was fun, some of it was hard and disheartening, but I learned something from every experience, even if that something was what I never wanted to do again. Sometimes I wish my path had been a little easier, or a little less painful, but it’s my path and I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t be who I am now without having been who I was then.

Limits: O.k., so I’m probably never going to be an astronaut, or a champion athlete, and I’ve made my peace with that. There will always be things I can’t do, either because my talents and abilities don’t suit those things, or because I simply don’t want to do them. As far as everything else goes, the only limits are the ones I set on myself, or the ones other people, well meaning people, try to tell me are true. If I want to start three subscription newsletters in one go, I can. If I want to start writing multiple books at the same time, I can. The only limits are the ones I agree to, and I don’t have to agree to any if that doesn’t suit me.

As stressful and sometimes hard as this time of adjustment has been, it’s also taught me a lot about myself and what I don’t and do want. There are those who say that you have to go through an uncomfortable time of shedding the old before you can enter into the new. I’m definitely doing some shedding right now, and it isn’t always the best feeling. What is the best is feeling excited about what’s coming next.