August 17, 2022
What a whirlwind my 20s have been.
I am sure to some people, this rings an unbearable cliche. For others, it holds a resounding truth. I am, totally, wholeheartedly, unafraid to admit that these last few years of my life have taught me more lessons than my early 20s, overconfident self, could have ever fathomed she needed.
She so desperately needed.
As I sit in my living room tonight, a fall-scented candle (yes, bring on "spooky" season) flickering amidst my semi-dark room, I reflect on the immense wave of change that has happened since I last desired to bring the words in my soul to a page. I live in a new apartment, with my love, on a different side of town. It's beautiful. I live down the street from one of my dearest friends--making last minute movie nights and cozy escapes from reality that much easier. I have moved farther away from other friends, a concept that has been difficult to swallow in some moments, yet it makes each time we reunite a little sweeter than it even once was. I have been graced with instantaneous new friendships in my workplace, the kind you know will last forever. I have tasted the professional stage in my sport, as well as taken the ice with a bunch of guys once again, reminiscent of my roots somehow so very intertwined with my dreams. I have tackled coaching, learned a lot about patience (or my lack thereof), and realized I am not cut out to teach. My passion for journalism has reignited after an opportunity to analyze some world-class games, witnessing such unique experiences of young 18 year olds chasing a medal, and now I am about to train to be an elite performance coach. Who knows what else the future holds.
I guess what I am trying to portray is that a lot has changed. And sometimes the idea of change can seemingly creep in, like a storm cloud on the horizon. We can feel the tingle of the air shifting, sense the coolness of the atmosphere clashing with the familiar. I find myself, at times, worried for what the wind will bring in. When I was little I was quite terrified of thunderstorms, believing every single one would result in a tornado or some life-altering, potentially life-ending threat. After losing a parent at such a young age, I honestly tend to view a lot of experiences, right away at least, as drastically coming straight for me, barreling ahead. I find myself fearing the worst when I have not even let myself breathe. I jump to conclusions. I grieve before there is even anything to grieve, if there is even anything to lose. I have overthought far too much, and it is among the abundance of those late 20-something lessons I am discovering to abide by.
Learning to care...less. To worry...less. To love myself...more.
The truth is, what I am slowly coming to discover, is that not all storms are bad. Not every change is permanent, or negatively-embodied. Sometimes the rain washes away what never was really meant to be. Sometimes the wind blows in a new opportunity. Sometimes the storm is what the flowers needed to finally, finally bloom.
Amidst all this rambling thought, what I am trying to say is that if you are anything like me, and find yourself letting fear dictate your emotions, or confidence in your abilities, or you worry about the change that has occurred or the undeniable change that will occur,
stop yourself.
What would happen if you chose to live without that fear? What if today you told yourself you are worthy, you are able? What if today you stepped outside and greeted that storm with your arms open wide, letting the rain awaken whatever it is inside of you that you've been hiding? What if maybe this time, the rain is a source of comfort and a strength all in one?
I let the fear of not being good enough prevent me from writing again.
But not today.
I am back, without fear. Here goes nothing.
Love,
Baylee
Comments