How I Grind

Mother by day, hustler by day

I’m a hypocrite.

I tell people every day to focus on positivity and to believe in themselves. I tell people to love themselves and treat themselves kindly. I speak as if I know what I’m talking about. And the truth is, I really do understand the theory of happiness at its core. I understand the theories behind self-improvement and building your own trade. I’m in the thick of it and logically speaking, I know exactly what I need to do to become successful, and how to feel good now.

But I still put myself down every day.

I struggle to come up with ideas for my writing and that makes me feel insecure. My figures have definitely increased in all aspects — in followers, reads, and financially, but they’re not groundbreaking.

Yet.

And while I know that’s OK, I still wonder whether I’m doing the right thing.

Managing Dream Vs Reality

I get self-doubt every day, but I have learned to manage it. Some days I engage with it, some days I tell it no thanks.

If I listened to society, if I used deductive reasoning, I would conclude that I am wasting my time trying to make a living from writing.

Firstly, I am not following all the rules to become a successful writer:

• I don’t have any marketing skills — I post my articles on social media as and when I feel like it/when it occurs to me.
• I don’t have an email list.
• I have not paid to do any online courses or coaching.

I absolutely concur that I need to do all of the above, but mostly, I need time to write first.

My old self would say it’s all a bit too much to handle and to just give up.

The odds are against me to become a successful writer, so I would absolutely lean towards my old way of thinking.

I mean, I am a full-time mother with zero writing experience other than what I have done on Medium for the last year plus all the love letters I have written to my husband.

Yet, somehow, I’m still expecting to win.

I don’t know how.

I just know I will, and it is up to me to insist.

It is up to me to be realistic while maintaining intrinsic belief in myself — I cannot turn my life around overnight, but I can control my attitude, and I can focus on my goals.

I am truly happy with my current circumstances as a whole.

I could be homeless. I could be living in a war-zone. I could be a single mother living on welfare. I could be working an absolutely terrible job and financially struggling to put food on the table for my son. I cannot complain.

I am more than good.

I worked the 9–5 jobs for years before falling pregnant, and I know that right now, I could not go back again, despite that being the obvious thing to do for most people.

But it doesn’t align with my desire to be a writer.

My dream is totally different to the norm where I live, so I cannot standardise my life under the expectations of a normal life because they’re just not compatible. It’s like trying to teach a fish to climb a tree, without considering that the fish not only can it not do that, it simply won’t want to. It makes no sense. So it makes no sense for me to go back to an office job now.

Time is a Gift

Everyone gets 24 hours in a day.

We all choose how we spend that time.

I hustle when my son sleeps, mostly. He used to sleep until around 6:30/7 am, so I’d get up at 6 to write until he was up which got me pumped for the day. I am most creative in the mornings and I can swing 2000 words in that time.

My husband looks after our son for 20 minutes after breakfast before he starts work himself. That gives me another small slot of time to be able to jot down some notes or plan for my big writing session during my son’s afternoon nap.

1 pm, the time where people are thinking about taking a break from work, was my prime working time because my son slept for a good 2.5 hours.

I used to thrive despite my body trying to tell me to rest. The time between 12:30 and 3 was mine alone to tackle everything that included all my roles — being a mother, a housewife, a writer, a learner.

But now, my son is waking up at 6, going to bed later and later, and sleeping less in the afternoon. It has given me anxiety because I feel like I’m always scraping at the crumbs of time I get.

Sometimes, when my husband can take care of our son, Andriel chases after me. He cries for his mama, literally tugging at my shirt for me to pick him up. It is hard not to give in and pay attention to him.

I have a toddler climbing on top of me as I write this very sentence.

I used to be able to sneak in a paragraph here and there with him playing around me, but that’s near impossible now.

But this is not my son’s problem, and I absolutely don’t blame him.

I should not be working when he’s around because it’s not fair. That’s not the reason he’s not in daycare.

They say you have to spend money and invest to succeed. Some might suggest the idea of paying to put my son in childcare even if only a couple of mornings a week to give me some time to write.

But I don’t believe it’s the best option for my son yet.

I will not sacrifice him for me.

I have to find an alternative way to pull through until he does go to nursery.

I have time for certain to focus wholeheartedly on work in the evenings once my son is asleep. So far, however, the evenings are short and blurry. After looking after my son all day and grinding in between in very short bursts, by 8pm I’m falling asleep to a TV show on the sofa. I drag myself up to bed by 9ish and read a couple of pages of my book before my eyelids start to force themselves shut.

And here we go again the next day, waking up at 6 to trip over time all over again.

So, I am at a crossroads.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I know the next move is important.

At the age of 12, I got stuck on a difficult level in the PS2’s Crash Bandicoot game for months. I gave up the game eventually because it felt impossible to get through the level and I even considered the game to be broken.

Now, at age 31, my 12-year-old self is telling me to explore other options, like getting a paid job. My mind is trying to trick me into thinking that’s what I want because it’s easier.

Interrogate Experts In Your Field

I asked the king of Medium, Ayodeji Awosika how long he spends working, and he replied, 8 hours per day, 7 days a week. But he’s not looking after his child full time.

My first thought was, “I have NO chance of making it, I’m barely doing 3 hours a day”. This was 4 or 5 months ago. Now, I have even less time.

Turning Problems Into Opportunities

My new self is saying however, that’s a good challenge.

To make it in much less time than 8 hours per day.

Being a mother is not a setback to my goals. Being a mother is a push forward. I’m in it for the long run, and I will show Mr Ayo that I too can shine, on way less time.

My new self is saying, “keep going because you’re good”.

I choose how I spend my time like everyone else — I chose to become a stay-at-home-mum and I chose to become a writer knowing full well my son would come first always.

I am OK with the fact that I have to work harder to make time for my writing.

When I come out the other side and you ask me, “how did you do it?!”, I’ll show you this very article to prove that everyone who makes it is normal, with normal day-to-day struggles.

We just have to see them through.

Sylvia Emokpae, thinker and philosopher, is passionate about self-love, motherhood, and pro-race. See more work like this.