This month I had to make some tough decisions regarding my professional life. I haven’t had any extra brain power for writing, so apologies to my two readers. For the last four years I’ve worked in a beautiful environment, in one of Boston’s most charming neighborhoods, with truly talented and wonderful people. The lovely thing about working in a small business is that you can become like a family. It’s hard to leave your family.
I have a tendency to put myself on the back burner. This is not some sort of “look how much I care about others” humblebrag, but a true and honest criticism of myself. I don’t always do it because I don’t want to inconvenience others or let them down. Sometimes I do it so that I can say to myself “look how much I give” when I feel inadequate, or to make excuses for when I’m too scared to make big changes – “I couldn’t do that. They need me”. This flaw is like a wolf in sheep’s clothing: big and bad on the inside, but cuddly looking on the outside. And I’ve been perfectly content to harbor that wolf, stroking its woolly head of lies (not a serious statement; I am not hysterical).
I know there are ways that I want to grow but change is scary and hard, so I’ve been sabotaging myself. I recite my mantra of self-sacrifice but what I’m really doing is avoiding change, and subsequently, growth. Change pulls the rug of comfort out from underneath you, and it’s up to you to fall or to fly. Up until now, I didn’t have faith in my flying skills. But if I’m going to help myself and live the kind of life I want to live, I have to believe in myself.
So this month, I gathered every shred of courage I could find and put the wheels of change in motion. I still feel like I’m in free-fall, but I’m trusting myself to turn on the jet pack. Or at the very least, pull the parachute cord before I inelegantly land flat on my face.