Friday, June 26, 2015

Change



I can remember when I first moved out of my parent's house and lived on my own, I was scared at first. The change was daunting, and it took me a few years to warm up to the idea. Once I did though, I never looked back. Over the next twenty years I've gone through many changes, some bad, and many good. Whether good or bad, I wasn't afraid of them. In fact, I looked forward to change...I embraced it. I used to brag that I never lived anywhere longer than five years. But then, I got older.

Once I hit my mid-30s, change once again became a daunting thing, and I've resisted change as much as possible. The devil-may-care feelings of my youth gave way to a desire for security and stability. After all, I'm a mom now, and my kids need stability. Or is it me that needs the stability?

I tend to think it's a bit of the former, but largely the latter. The last few years have seen many changes in my life, and big ones to boot, but they didn't require any sort of uprooting. I felt pretty secure with my feet firmly on the ground. Now, I sit here and contemplate my future...the best future I can imagine for my changing life. Adaptation is a necessity.

I can't put it off any longer, and I know that something has to give, but I am so comfortable that it's a scary proposition. I'm just going to face it though, the best way I know how: with confidence and with the hope that I can conjure up a bit of that excitement I felt when I was young and unafraid of the unknown.
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