I toss around the acronym “EFBA” quite a bit here.
It stands for “epic fucking badass.”
My clients are EFBAs. I bet you are too.
And I am going to level with you– so am I.
People sometimes think it’s cocky or arrogant that I walk around calling myself an epic fucking badass. But that phrase came out of a time in my life when I felt like anything BUT an EFBA. What I felt like was a total epic fucking loser SCAREDYCAT. (The truth is, I’m scared of countless things, even now. The dark, ghosts, bugs, calling the insurance company, and school receptionists. But this wasn’t run-of-the-mill-wussery. This was me scared of big scary things that were going down in my life that, if I could tell you about them, would probably have scared the pants off you too, even if you are ridiculously brave and you NEVER bolt panicked down dark hallways to flip on the light. Like I do.)
Things were looking grim for me at that particular juncture. I was dealing with an impossible situation that was bleeding me dry financially AND breaking my heart. Someone I trusted turned on me viciously. I was getting pummeled from every direction, and I felt weak and pitiful and like curling up in a ball. I really, really wanted to give up.
However, I had this child to feed, so that really wasn’t an option.
So I made a commitment to myself that I would keep going no matter what. That I would step up and be the person who was required to handle my life.
My life, at that particular point in time, required nothing less than a truly heroic epic fucking badass.
So that’s what I decided to become.
And that moment of decision changed everything for me.
Do I always walk around feeling strong and triumphant?
Like the other day when I charred the grilled cheese and my daughter looked at me with utter disappointment and resignation and said, “It’s fine, mom. I’ll just eat it.”
Or the other day when I had a hard conversation with someone who was really angry and really hurt by something I said.
Or any of the 500 times a day when life feels too irritating, frustrating, overwhelming, and sticky and goddamn disgusting to handle.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided that I will be an epic fucking badass, which I define as:
1. Telling the truth, and
2. Refusing to give up.
And so that’s what I do. I tell the truth about what is going on, and then I take another step.
Both of those components are crucial to the equation. You have to tell the truth about what is really happening, even if the truth comes out in a wail of despair or grief or fury.
But you look at that truth with compassion, and you move forward toward what you want.
You don’t sugarcoat, but you don’t wallow either.
That’s the way of the EFBA. It’s just how we DO.
Tell the truth, and don’t quit. That’s it. That’s all you have to do, and you just keep doing it.
(Though if you want more help from yours truly, I dropped a quiet but very big announcement yesterday about working together next year– so email firstname.lastname@example.org asap if you want the scoop on the 2017 EFBA Mentorship.)
But make no mistake.
EFBAs aren’t born.
You’ve got this.