ASH AMBIRGE

Author, CEO & Founder

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To the Woman With the Fake Smile: Stop It, You Fucking Pigeon

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

Can we all just stop, already?
Stop apologizing.
Stop saying sorry.

Stop shrinking into some small little ball-less version of yourself—you know, so you don’t make all the other ball-less twats feel uncomfortable. Or risk offending somebody. Or do something controversial. Or doing all of that and then totally screwing it up and feeling stupid. God forbid.

I’m sick and tired of it. I’m sick of seeing you hesitate. Second guess yourself constantly. Smile weakly.

FUCKING WILT.

You’re wilting away and you don’t even see it. But you feel it. God, do you feel it.

That’s the feeling you can’t describe. The one where you “should” be happy and you “should” be grateful and you “should” be skipping down a golden fart-filled rainbow everyday—preferably pausing briefly for some sun salutations—because everything looks fine on the outside and everyone tells you how lucky you are and holy shit is that MEMORY FOAM under your carpet? YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL BECAUSE THERE ARE PEOPLE WITH LESS MEMORY FOAM THAN YOU.

But instead you’re drifting around like a flimsy little hollowed out gutless shell of a ghost (an impressive feat, indeed), wishing you could do X, Y or Z, but then immediately swatting down your own ideas, because that would be:

a) Too crazy
b) Too complicated
c) Too risky
d) Too expensive
e) Too big / scary / unrealistic

Or

Because you don’t know what you’re doing or because you wouldn’t know where to start or because your husband won’t let you or because your sister thinks you’re crazy.

Who cares?
Who really cares?
Is it worth it?

Is it worth it to never actually feel like yourself again? Is it worth having to put on a show for the rest of your life? Is it worth it, having to fake the smile, and fake the enthusiasm, and fake every emotion you’re “suppose” to be having?

Don't be a pigeon. 

This is not living with integrity. It’s the opposite. It’s a big, fat betrayal. You’ve given and given and given to everyone else, given in to their demands and whims and wishes and worries, and you’ve cut out your own heart in the process.

Don't be a pigeon.

You could’ve really been something. You still can. The artist inside your fingers still flickers. But, but, but, but, BUT, BUT, BUT, BUT, BUT!

Don't be a fucking pigeon.

There are things worth worrying about in this life: Death. Famine. Sickness. Tragedy. And then there are the things that aren’t. Trivial, baseless worries taking up space in your skull and quietly, quietly, quietly expanding until there’s no room for anything else. What if? What if it’s too much work? What if I’m not as good as I used to be? What if I’m not any good at all? What if I’m just average? What if I disappoint myself? What if I’m just fooling myself? What if I’m just a big, fat joke?

I don’t know. What if? Can you handle it? Can you handle being wrong about yourself? And more importantly, can you handle being right?

Don't be a pigeon.

I’ve resorted to name calling because it’s the only way you’ll get angry. It’s the only way you’ll pay attention. It’s the only way you’ll hear me. You’ve left yourself behind. You've abandoned ship. You’ve taken the coward's way out. And then you wonder why. You stay up late at night wondering why. Why do you feel like a hollowed out empty shell of a ghost?

Because you are.

But, it’s never too late. It’s really not. Time is actually on our side. Time wants you to grab onto her tee-shirt and never let go. Time wants you to use her up, to ride her coattails, to be everything she hoped for you.

There is still time. And there is still hope. And there is still, and forever will be, creativity, which will always be there for you, waiting patiently to welcome you home, even after you’ve drifted.

Pigeons are beautiful birds, my love, once they remember they’re doves.

Oct 15

2010

A Conversation With An Immigrant on U.S. Life

Oct 15, 2010

I had an insightful conversation with a Mexican immigrant the other day. We also might have had a round of margaritas, which could have enhanced the perceived value of the conversation, but nevertheless, I wanted to share it with you. It went something like this: ME: So, I imagine you came here with some expectations […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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Nov 28

2012

Marilyn Monroe Wouldn’t Give a Damn.

Nov 28, 2012

Remember earlier this year… …when I sauntered over to Ecuador and had a twelve year old pierce my nose, as well as agreed to having a random Ecuadorian man sit on top of me on the beach to doodle all over my back with a mysterious black, sticky ink? Maybe we didn’t know each other […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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Jul 13

2010

Is It Your Own Fault?

Jul 13, 2010

I’ve been meeting a lot of truly smart, savvy, remarkable people lately. So many are saying to hell with the safety net, and are leaping toward their passions, and haven’t looked back since. On the same token, however, so many of those smart, savvy, remarkable people are not. Frankly, this makes me want to burst […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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Nov 5

2012

Where’s Your God Damn Pineapple?

Nov 5, 2012

There’s always a reason why you shouldn’t. Shouldn’t spend the money. Shouldn’t be so frivolous. Shouldn’t miss work. Shouldn’t be irresponsible. Shouldn’t act so hastily. And a million other reasons why you shouldn’t do what you’ve been wanting to do. The real question, of course, isn’t whether you should or you shouldn’t. Because when it […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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May 4

2010

Shattering the Current Model of Reality

May 4, 2010

Most of you reading this website are here because you want more. Tried and true may be comfortable, but boring.  The traditional life path may be safe, but uninspiring.  The status quo is average, but nothing extraordinary. You know there’s something missing, but you can’t pinpoint what, exactly, it is. We’ve essentially been told for […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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I'm a Bad Influence on Women

Hey, I’m Ash! Twenty years ago I was a small town girl growing up in a trailer park in rural Pennsylvania. Fifteen years ago, I lost my family and everything I knew right as I became the first to graduate college. Fourteen years ago, I found myself leaving everything behind for a new life in the city where I could be “normal.” Ten years ago I realized normal was the most disappointing thing that ever happened to me. Nine years ago I quit my job in advertising and pursued my dreams as a creative writer. Eight years ago, I built a 6-figure business doing what I love using nothing more than the Internet and my voice. And now, today, I’m the founder of The Middle Finger Project, an irreverent media co. that helps other women find their voice and teaches them to use it to build whatever the f*ck they want to. With a book coming out with Penguin Random House in February 2020 (YASSS, WE’RE A PRODUCT IN TARGET!) I’m proud to be a bad influence on women and guide them into doing something disobediently brave with their life and their career.

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