Category: Fear

The week I felt everything I left behind…

August 25, 2016

The Day Dad Left.

I never quite felt the tug on my heart strings to return to Vancouver like when my dad left. Seeing the plane come in, waiting with him at the airport, feeling like the comfort, familiarity and safety of having him here was all about to be torn away… was terrifying and unnerving. He turned and asked if I was coming home, and it filled my eyes with tears, both knowing that he wasn’t just joking, and both knowing that I couldn’t. But when he asked me, my heart immediately sank, as the world I had left behind flashed before my eyes; my friends, family, and all familiar places I loved back home. I had left it all, for here. This was home now. And I was here, on my own, alone.

The first time I ever saw my dad cry was today. Wishing me well, telling me he was proud before he left, as he kissed me on my forehead and we stood there in tears in an embrace that pained me to end. Regardless of everything, he was my dad and always would be.

And when his plane took off, for the first time, since I’ve been here, I could feel everything that I had left behind, and then grief and fear overtook me. I broke down into uncontrollable tears.

What had I done? Was it all worth while? And why, did it suddenly all feel so hard?

A Letter to my Demons

Today I wept 3 times, trying to cope with an immense sense of emptiness and loneliness. I am all over the place, feelings of sadness for being here alone, leading to dark thoughts telling me its because no one wants to join me on this adventure, or be with me, all the way to feelings of shame for my decision, feelings stupid and weak for my choice to come here, fearing judgement from those that I only like to show my strong side to, feeling fear about my visa and stress about work. Perhaps for the first time in a long time, I miss familiarity, I miss comfort, maybe today was the first day I can let myself say, “I miss home, I miss my family. I miss the people that know me, and I miss the places that bring me warmth and comfort. And that is okay”.

Because it doesn’t take away from now, I don’t regret the choices I made, why do I even feel the need to say that? Perhaps I fear your judgement. That the way to measure success is to feel joy everyday after you’ve made a decision. I’m afraid that that you might say “I told you so”, “I knew she couldn’t do it”, “I knew it’d sink in eventually.” That you would think I was any less courageous. But then, I would tell you, but I did do it. Already moved. And that how I feel or think right now does not define me. I am more than my insecurities, fears and doubts. I am more than my life choices and accomplishments. I am dynamic, multi-dimensional and ever-evolving. I am allowed to be courageous and afraid, strong and fragile, confident and insecure all at the same time.

I know who I am and I won’t let you take that way from me.

On the plane to Australia, sitting with fear and self-doubt

March 1, 2016

And so this adventure begins… sometimes I find myself doubting myself. What was I thinking running away, so damn far and so damn fast. What am I running away so intensely from? or what am I am so desperately seeking to find? What does my soul crave most?

In some moments, I feel a scary amount of calmness, as if it hasn’t sunken in yet. I hear myself answering people inquiring about where I’m from and asking me about my story as if I’m not the one saying these words, “I’m moving”, “at least for one year,” “oh, I bought a one way…”. Even as I sit here writing these words, I feel a trembling deep in my core, as if a part of me still sits in denial, that its been almost a day since I left everyone and everything I’ve ever known in Vancouver. It’s fear, it sits within me, eager to share and overshadow my excitement for new beginnings with self doubt, and “what ifs” that only ever end in catastrophic endings and snapshots of lonely and empty days to come. Where I can see myself falling short of everything I hoped to achieve while I’m here.

The truth is, I’m afraid. I’m terrified. But I can’t let myself know that. I’m afraid I made a mistake, I’m afraid it will be harder than I thought. I’m afraid I overlooked a detail, I’m afraid to spend time away from loved ones. I’m afraid to let myself down.

But as I choose to sit in these moments of fear, I try to convince myself to be brave, and to sit with the fear, to face it, and to be still in it. And I let it warn me, caution and scare me, because yes, it IS a huge decision. And in these moments, I feel winded, out of air, as my head spins trying to catch up with this decision I have made.

But somehow, I catch myself coming back to the word courage. A word I was gifted with recently by a dear friend. And I am reminded that in this moment, I choose courage. Courage is not the one time decision to book a flight, step on a plane, or to share your story once in front of a room of people, but instead, it is found in every little moment that I sit with fear, that I lean into it, and choose to continue to take the baby steps that the tiny voice in my heart leads me towards. I tell myself, one day at a time, one hour at a time, one moment at a time of courage, strength and faithfulness.

Because there once was a time, that I lived in fear, of life, of risks, of my own dreams, afraid to want them, in case one day I had to realize that I could not achieve them. There was once a day I feared seeing the outcome of my life and the perceived failure so much that I wanted to throw in the towel right then and there. Fear had me as its willing prisoner. But today, I let that fear drive me, unnerve, unravel and torment me with its worse outcomes and doubts, only to lean into it and prove it wrong. I will not be ruled by my fear, not again. I will live out my life, in light of and in the face of my fear.