R is for Risk

We all have an idea of what we want our lives to look like. A creative job that you love, an insta-worthy relationship that all your friends swoon over, a fixer upper styled house, getting paid to go on vacation…the list goes on. But, what happens when you’ve arrived (and even survived), and things are not what you thought they would be? In particular, you are not who you thought you would be.

I’m learning that my dreams and passions are allowed to look differently than what I thought they would be. My worth as a human being is not found in what I do; but, what I do shapes who I am becoming. And, because of that, I have to do what it is that I want to become.

And you know what?

It’s okay try something new.

It’s okay to change your mind, but not change who you are deep down.

It’s okay to want one thing for a certain period of time, and to want something else for the next.

It’s okay to risk big and fail big in front of other people.

It’s okay to drop the expectations that everyone had for you and your career, in pursuit of something that is unknown, and that may or may not bring you the joy you wish it to.

And, it’s okay to be wrong, but to keep trying to find that joy anyway.

It’s all okay.

In realizing this, I find myself looking out into endless possibilities. But, there is one dream that I never considered. And, there’s one talent that I’ve neglected. And it is this one that you are reading right now. Written words.

Who dreams of becoming a writer? Not any college student who dreams of “making a living.” Was becoming a writer even on any of those career tests when I was a kid? Did I even know real life people could actually be a writer?

I had no clue! Yet, writing has been a perpetual escape in each of my life stages. From childhood, to adolescence, to college student life, to early adulthood – I’ve always taken comfort and found power in the words that I wrote.

My voice has always come out best on paper. Thoughts that I never knew I had could flow from my pen or through my keyboard in ways that I could never verbally process. There is something to this love of words, and the beautiful process that is writing. There is something about writing on paper versus speaking words that gives me much more calm, comfort, security, and power.

But, could writing actually be a real calling? A real job? A real career? Like, for real? I know that it can be and is for many other writers. I’m not sure what I want my passion for writing to look like in the coming weeks, months, or years.

But, I do know that it starts with taking small risks, then bigger ones, then even bigger ones. It starts by putting myself out there, for interpretation and misunderstanding. It starts by building with one brick at a time. It starts with one word at a time.

Here are mine.

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