Forgive me, for it has been a long time since my last blog post. Yes, I have had many chances to write about all of the fantastic gatherings that I have been fortunate enough to attend. I am not a blogger, but I fully believe in sharing the moments that keep this community alive and breathing. This time, however, I feel the need to express my downfall.
It has been a little over a year since I came at a cross roads. One road would have continued down the path of self doubt, what if's, and getting stuck with roles that not only pays less but kept my mind and hands tied. Or, I could just say... "F**k it, I'm going to do this on my own." We all know what I chose. I sold my dream truck and all but one bike to get rid of any debt and minimize overhead. I used this last year to travel to as many motorcycle events as possible to help get the GT-Moto name out in this small world. Little did I know, that was the easy part.
I have always been grateful for the opportunities I was given growing up in the motorcycle industry because I was able to learn a ridiculous amount of skills. Skills that can only be perfected through time, patience, and practice. I learned everything from keeping toilets clean to remembering VIN numbers for warranty work. I can organize and manage my time, phone calls, emails, ordering, receiving, delegating, and book keeping. You can be the greatest builder, but if you can't take care of the back end, the part that customers will never see, then you will fail and end up working for someone else who will manage you. On paper I look great: Facebook, Instagram, and social media make me look bigger than I really am.
But nothing could prepare me for when reality hit a few months ago. I am a 29 year-old woman, who is now being taken care of by my father. He has to make sure I am eating and taking my new medication on time in order to get the swelling down in my digestive tract. As I spend day after day, hour after hour, laying on my back and coddling my stomach as this new illness not only attacks my body, but my mind, I can not help but think back to what I had. I had a steady income, customers I adored who would come visit every week, fellow employees I could see every day who became my family, and daily tasks and easy challenges that I felt like I could handle. I had a reason to get up early and by 5PM I could turn my work brain off and go home to relax or spend time with friends and family.
I broke down. I let myself down. It's like going through a terrible break-up and you think you are over it until you start remembering the good times. I have no routine, no guarantees of financial stability, no way to turn off my brain from work because I work from home, no walk-in's from new customers that see the store from a busy street, no interactions with employees, and no easy tasks.
How does someone get back motivation?
I breathe. I hug Papa. And I make a list.
I love what I do so much that I physically made myself sick. I wanted to be so perfect that I lost sight of what my purpose originally was. But life has a funny way of making you stop and remember... I've managed to weed out all of the people who have made me come running home crying because I was just a young girl. I have found lasting friendships that have made me who I am today. I have seen a love and passion for this industry that I have never seen in any other market. I have seen friends and family fight cancer because of how this industry pulls together for one another. Building custom ANYTHING is a tremendous amount of work, but it's all I know how to do and I only have one shot at this life. I always wanted to be someone who saves lives and finds a cure for cancers and I remembered that I still can. I can keep working each day to build a place where I can employee talented people who will never have their hands tied; a place where we can continue to raise money for the organizations that actually cure people; an environment where customers become friends. I can and I will build a home.
I am not a blogger. I am not a doctor. I am a Motorcycle Builder.