Hopeful Choices

Sometimes getting what you want is terrifying.

If you’ve been reading along with my more personal entries here, you’ve gathered that I’m undergoing quote the personal reinvention, or at least attempting to.

I’ve always had a dream to live and work in New York (City, hopefully), but I never took the leap to make it happen because I’d created such a beautiful life for myself in Nashville. I had a wonderful job, parents who were close by, an adorable home, and some remarkable friends. But after a particularly stressful 2012, I spent the next year deeply evaluating how I needed the next chapter of my life to read. The years were passing faster than ever, and while I was very blessed, I wasn’t happy. I’d grown stagnant and frustrated in my “good” life. I quietly but consciously began to point my life in the direction of a move to New York, and then some unfortunate events led to that process escalating in a much more tumultuous style than I’d hoped.

After a short period of INTENSE self-reflection (and a good talking-to by my dear friends P&A), I decided to pack up the essentials, find a place to crash temporarily, and just jump off the cliff, looking for the net to appear.

Well, it hasn’t. YET. 

I’ve only been here a few days, but I’ve been on one good interview and have another next week. My darling friends have opened their own homes to me because, in a show of love I can’t even fully wrap my head around, they are doing what THEY can to make this dream happen for me – they just want me here that much. Who gets to have friends like that?? I certainly don’t deserve them, but there’s absolutely no way I’d ever give them up.

But what I really want to share is an honest glimpse into my fears. My useless, empty, paralyzing fears. Here I was, finally, taking the steps I’d always wanted to, but if I had a dollar for every time I wanted to turn the car around and go back to Tennessee, I wouldn’t even need to find a job. I had a complete freak out in the unfamiliar grocery store because I couldn’t seem to find where these damn New Yorkers put their peanut butter, and the little voice in my head said, “Just go home, where it’s all easier. Safer.” But then another, littler voice attempted to scream over that one, saying, “AND BORING! Easy is for quitters!! Safe isn’t interesting!!” I tried to hide my brimming tears from the teenager ringing me up at the checkout, but I’m pretty sure I saw him roll his eyes at the bag boy.

I am completely, utterly, hopelessly terrified. I want you to see that crossed out hopelessly, because I’m not hopeless. I hopeFULL [sic]. I am scared beyond scared of failing and embarrassing myself and losing everything but somehow I still contain hope. I believe that spending time here with the people who love me and believe in me will help me overcome my fear and carry me down the road of becoming the brave, adventurous, ALIVE woman that I want to be.

One of my mantras these days is a quote attributed to Nelson Mandela. I hope I can be a living example of this.

May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.

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