Change. What a scary thing. I’m not one to take large risks. I may have tiptoed outside of my comfort zone in the past 25 years of my existence, but I can’t ever recall a leap. A leap outside of my comfort zone.
I’m reading ‘Becoming’ by Michelle Obama right now and she often refers to her young self as a box checker. I was and am that box checker too. I needed to be good and I needed to do well. That’s what made me comfortable. Deviating from what others told me was good, or what others told me was right made me anxious. The effort needed to check those boxes wasn’t mere effort. It ensured peace of mind. To me, the safe route was the best route.
But now I’m realizing the value of this period of my life, when I’m not bound to any particular thing, place or person. I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m free, and now is my chance to make my leap. Others may think of my ‘leap’ as a ‘step’, but they each had a first right?
In the past week alone, a lot of my conversations have been around my next ‘move’, the next chapter of my life, the next era – at the gym, at work, at home. The more I talk about my grand itch to take the leap, the more I see it, the more I want it.
You know how they say that manifesting makes things happen. I think I understand the notion on a different level now. I’ve always been shy about my true ideas, dreams and aspirations. They were always hidden, rarely shared. My fear of committing to something and not achieving always exceeded my desire to culminate, but I think this time, it’s different. I more openly talk about what I want with others, I weigh the pros and cons with friends and family, and I can envision what my life will look like on the other side.
In the end, this all might just be another box, but it’ll be my box, not shaped or sized by anyone’s influence, and to me, that’s what matters.