Latest posts by Chiara Mazzucco (see all)
- I Haven’t Showered (and Other Problems of the Overly-Ambitious) - July 21, 2014
- Booze and You: When Alcohol Happens - July 18, 2014
- Why Do Women Cling? - July 14, 2014
In February of this year, I was still blogging sex, dating and relationships, and The Indie Chicks was nothing but a brilliant little seed of an idea nestled sweetly on the surface of a big white dry erase board. In February, when I signed up for the BlogHer conference, Renee and I had big plans for a weekend together after my abrupt – but adventurous – move across the country. We were going to rent a room, disappear into the electric sidewalks of NYC, and have the kind of fun we used to have before.. well.. you know, before ‘life’ happened. Unfortunately, Renee couldn’t make it out here and the conference is in 2 days. I’m also no where as rich as I thought I would be 6 months ago. So.. I’m going on a wild ride into the city, on my own, stay with old friends and document the entire thing.
Before my 9 month old son, my handsome zombie killing husband, and our abrupt move to the east coast.. I was quite the lone wolf. I’d put on my leather boots, tuck in my skinny jeans, and sport nothing more than a wife beater, my tattoos and a stylish side part. You could find me with a cigarette in hand, shifting gears in my Isuzu Amigo, driving from Sunset Blvd to Venice Beach to the rhythm of Bon Jovi and ACDC.
You get the picture.
Now, let me clarify something: I’m a very happy young woman. I’m 25, an entrepreneur, a mom to one of the most amazing little boys in the world, and I’m married to the most incredible man – one I couldn’t have designed myself. We’re on this wild adventure together and he truly is my better half. After an exhausting pregnancy and a traumatizing labor, we’re jump starting our dreams, starting up 2 companies, going through struggles together, and guiding each other on the path of self discovery; all while raising our little nugget of a son.
But a girl needs a break.
My current living situation (or mere existence) has made me question a lot about myself. I was such a social person when I lived in Los Angeles. I was a waitress, a bartender, a department head; I was always in your face, 24/7, making an educated ass of myself, saying things that no one wanted to say but needed to be said, and inspiring those around me to hunt for a better tomorrow. Then, suddenly, I’m isolated. (Our move into the city had to get pushed back a couple of months for personal reasons).
So, without anyone to ‘perceive’ me, who am I? It really made me wonder, now that my environment has changed, will I change too?
In that chaos that is life, I’m happy to report that I’ve been offered the chance to leave my comfort zone, and to dive back into my favorite sport of life: socializing. Although Renee will not be joining me, I will still be attending the conference. I won’t know a soul (unless any readers here plan to attend – in which case, get in touch so we can hold hands), and I’ll be staying with a friend I went to school with in LA who I haven’t seen in almost 10 years. I’m nuts with joy.
That’s right. I’m going on a solo adventure.. 4 whole days. I plan on letting my phone run out of battery, and forcing myself to find an outlet at the local coffee shop. I plan on getting lost on the subway, eating at random cafes, and walking to my own pace (my husband is the fastest walker ever).
It will be my first time away from Luca since his birth (when they separated us for 15 hours). It will also be the first time I leave my husband in 3 years together. I know, it’s fucking crazy. I’ve always been the type of girl who’d say, “I’ll call you in a few days, text me sweet nothings and fun sexts, but if I see you too much I’ll get sick of you.” Well, needless to say, the desire to see this man more than twice a week is the reason I married him. But I digress.
He reminds me every day that he believes in me.
Now it’s time to shake shit up. Do I still believe in myself?
I think every woman crosses this point in life: If I am not a mother, a wife, or my job, who am I? We forget the little things that make us unique because we get wrapped up in defining ourselves by everyone else’s standards.
When in doubt, isolate yourself and get back to the basics.
I get to challenge myself again. I get to be nervous and talk to myself to pump myself up. (No bestie, no hubby, no baby-who-doesn’t-talk-back). I am on my own.
and I’m pumped.
On a side note, I will get to see Jewels and Kat on Sunday.. and it’s going to be epic.
I talk too much – I know this… and every member of our Indie Chick team knows this. The truth is, I like to remind myself that I’m alive. I’m a hungry little girl with a big recipe for dreams. This weekend, I will dive into conversations, sell myself and this company, and I’m going to challenge the hell out of myself. This weekend, I’m bringing out the leather boots, the wife beater and the cigarettes, baby.