“You’re really brave to do that.”
Someone I had just met said that to me last week.
They were referring to me taking the leap and deciding to move to New York City back in 2014.
I don’t know that I thought I was brave at the time. All I could feel was excitement.
And, frankly, if I hadn’t, I imagine my life would look completely different than it does now.
Everything in me screamed that I desired to move to New York. It was just the thing my soul was telling me to do.
So, my WHY was clear… I had a desire. It made itself known to me so clearly I couldn’t ignore it. And then I started putting the pieces in place so I could do that, even going so far as to get a coach with an accountability program to help me set the groundwork to make this big move.
To be honest, I didn’t even feel all that prepared. From the moment I discovered that New York was the next step for me, I gave myself a year to move out there. Only managed to save up $3,000 in my savings account. I was even lucky to have a friend in the city who was able to vet out the room I hoped to rent, so I could secure a place a month before actually moving out there.
And I jumped.
I didn’t have my freelance writing business anywhere near where I would need it to be to make a sustainable living. Thought that would be enough, and it wasn’t.
Sometimes jumping into something blind can be incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Looking back, I feel like I was veering dangerously close to the latter.
You can prepare all you can for a big jump, but nothing can truly prepare you for what awaits you when you land. It was scary when I got here but not so much before I made the leap.
From vindictive roommates, being unexpectedly taken advantage of, the struggle of freelance work and the lack of consistency of those paychecks, unpredictable people in the city (definitely have some stories on that front), and having an intuitive/spiritual awakening on top of it all that made me more sensitive… It has not always been easy. At one point, I even contemplated moving out to LA, rather than moving back to Utah, but then I realized it was actually most cost-effective for me to live in NYC where I didn’t need a car and could rent a room for under $1,000.
So, I stayed.
Because I felt deep in my marrow that this was where I was supposed to be. And I was elated to be here every day.
So, it didn’t necessarily feel brave to me. To move out here.
It felt necessary. It felt like something I had to do. Like something was waiting for me out here or something.
Didn’t know what, obviously… Not at that time.
In retrospect, it felt like I was waiting for me. The parts of me that couldn’t express themselves in the place I grew up. Like I had to choose me by making this move. And the evolution hasn’t stopped since.
In a way, choosing me and making the move was brave.
And I think staying—even when certain challenges felt so crippling I was worried how they’d shake out (money being a big one for a long time)—has felt even braver than making the jump.
And I’m so grateful that I stuck it out.
Because no place has ever felt more like home or made me feel more like myself.
Sometimes it can be easy to mistake fear for excitement. The quickening of the heartbeat and breaths, the nervousness that runs through your veins…
Is this fear because it’s exciting and something you actually want?
Or is this something that’s legitimately fearful?
Is it something you want to run toward? Or run away from?
I know firsthand it can be scary to go after what you want for fear of not getting it or failing… But being led by fear is a constricting and suffocating way to go.
Excitement on the other hand… is much more expansive, thrilling, and fun.
It’s easy to be brave when you are running toward something you are excited for.