Five Years From Now, I’ll Wish I Started

September 17, 2025
A Wednesday, in Santa Monica —

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time."
— Mary Oliver

Everything changes the moment you decide to change.

I'm obviously woo-woo forward, but even I get surprised sometimes by the way life rearranges itself once you commit. I saw that Mary Oliver quote yesterday, and it was the thing that got me to move.

Obviously, the world feels paralyzing right now (I wrote about this last night). But I refuse to live at the mercy of bad.

I remember being little and loving to write. English and history were always my favorite subjects in school. Understanding the past and experiencing it through writers gave me great comfort.

At some point, though, I stopped listening to what I liked because it wasn't practical.

What was I going to do with an English degree?

Everyone else told me to choose business instead. I love business too, by the way. And I am good at it. I love creating. I love selling. I love people. I love teams.

I can love both. How can I be more creative in my work? How can I embrace this other side of me so that I’m fully embodied.

I think I've tried to write a book five times now. The prospect of writing a book has actually saved me on two occasions.

In my most recent prologue, I wrote the following (this was over a year ago):

"Books have given me hope during times that have felt super hopeless. Like tonight, honestly. I decided to write a book earlier, during one of the most painful days in my life, and the prospect of that has quieted the storm in my head. I don't know how to write one, but I'm doing it anyway. Because I believe this should exist, and I hope it helps you too."

That's the essence of all my writing, really. It helps me, and I hope it helps you too.

Yet every time I start, I stall.

I'm addicted to the "almost" — it's much safer to think about it than to actually do it. But then I remind myself that "thinking but not doing is the same as not doing anything at all."

I’m self-aware enough to know why I stall — a fear of failure, a fear of being fully seen. To try is to surrender control, and for the longest time control has been my fiercest protector. If I can control the outcome, I can brace for pain or danger. But the paradox of control is brutal: the very thing you cling to for safety is what quietly wounds you and keeps you small.

There's a Madonna quote (lmao), "A lot of people are afraid to say what they want. That's why they don't get what they want."

And it makes sense to be afraid! Trusting yourself after years of conditioning that said “don't”… is hard!

But here's what I know I want …

I want to be a force for good and make the world a better place. I want to make people feel safe and seen. I want to be influential in my work. I want to model vulnerability so that others can have permission to do the same. I want to help people stay human and connected in a world moving very fast. I want the freedom to evolve what I want. I want to be a wife and a mom. I want to love and be loved deeply. I want to be surrounded by incredible people who inspire me to be better.

Once you decide what you want — or at the very least, how you want to feel — the universe starts to open secret doors.

Five years from now, I'll wish I had started. I'll wish I had done something to make the world better, even if only in small ways — even if only for the enjoyment of my friends :)

I don't need to know what it will become. I only know that I want to (finally) give my writing the power and time it deserves.

Lots of love, C.