I’m going to start by telling you that moving to a new city is exciting.
For the first month and a bit after I had moved and set up my things in my downtown Calgary apartment, I felt like I was on a mini vacation.
Everything around me was new and exciting. Being in a different city was refreshing and liberating. I could be whoever I wanted to be and there were so many new people to meet and places to explore.
It was an adventure and a big transition into a new life.
But, it’s been a few months now — and as exciting as being in a new city is…
I’m gonna’ be real with you:
It’s tough shit.
I’ve talked about my struggle with eating disorders. Those demons still live in my head, and body dysmorphia is something I face daily. Anxiety, on top of these overwhelming feelings of missing home, my family, my closest friends – it’s part of every single day of my life.
Day in and day out, I worry about everything and overthink my entire life. I battle with this need to be ‘perfect’. I constantly wonder if I’m even doing anything right or if I’m quite possibly awful at “adulting”.
These feelings aren’t new to me. I’ve experienced all of these things for years – but I spent a lot of that time living in the comfort of a city I had grown up in, with familiar people around me that I wasn’t afraid to be myself around. It was a little easier to manage then.
Now…
I’m somewhere new. I’m still fighting all of these wars, while also trying to maintain this sense of cool and create this rad new life for myself.
The struggle is real.
Throw in a new job, a never-ending list of things to do (find a new doctor and dentist, switch my car insurance, switch my medical services plan, get a new drivers license, etc.), plus freeways and off ramps to memorize and navigate. I love meeting new people, but making new friends- good, solid friends that can temporarily take the place of the friends I left behind- is not easy. Don’t get me wrong — there are a lot of really fantastic people here who I’ve met or talked to online or heard about, but I’m just worn down from repeatedly sharing my story and making good impressions and trying to build my own life up in the meantime.
Oh, and of course – there’s that thing about how I already let someone wiggle their way into my precious little heart, only to have them break it.
Do I sound like I’m whining yet?
In all seriousness, I often feel like I’m rambling on about things that I should probably stop complaining about. Because as annoying and tiresome as all of this is when you put it all together, I’m generally okay.
Yes, life is hard – but how boring would it be if it was easy? If it always made perfect sense, and everything just fell into place without a challenge?
Think about it.
Yes, moving to a new city is scary. Starting from scratch, being the new person at your job, at your gym, in the neighbourhood – is intimidating. Leaving behind my friends and my family and a place that made me feel at home, stings my heart and soul.
I’ve stepped out of my safe zone. I’ve moved from a place of comfort to a place of vulnerability.
I have serious fears of the unknown, but I’m taking a risk.
Because, I truly believe that that’s what makes life interesting – when we mentally challenge ourselves, push boundaries, allow ourselves to feel, absorb and breathe new experiences; when we open ourselves up to other people and form new connections or let them teach us something about life, or ourselves, or shift our perspective.
None of it comes easy to me, but all of it gives me goosebumps in the best (and worst) way possible.
In the past 5 months I’ve had a lot of good days. I’ve also had bad days, and other days when I can’t stop crying or wishing I was home.
I won’t shy away from the truth: There have been plenty of times when I’ve gone straight home from work to just fall asleep – so I can forget about trying to keep all the pieces of my life together, while the world keeps spinning around me.
But in those same 5 months, I’ve learned a little more about who I am and who I want to be. I’ve grown, I’ve shared love, I’ve tried new things and opened my mind to all sorts of brand new information that’s made my life better and made me a little, tiny bit wiser.
Earlier this year when I made the big announcement that I was packing up my life and relocating to a city I’d only visited for a weekend once before, there were a lot of people who commented on how “brave” I was. As I sit here and write this, I’m perplexed by that statement.
I don’t feel brave at all. I haven’t felt brave through this entire process. I especially don’t feel brave right now.
Current status: I’m nervous for what the future may or may not hold. I’m still wondering if I am enough – and if I’m capable of everything I want to commit to. I’m homesick, I’m exhausted, I want to book a vacation and not tell anyone where I’m going and throw away my cellphone.
I feel so many things right now.
Brave, is not one of them.
The struggle is very real.
But, as much as I sometimes want to step back into my comfort zone and keep myself safe – I know I’d be missing out on a lot of really cool, new experiences that will undoubtedly make me and my life even just a little bit better.
The lesson?
I’ll let Benedict Cumberbatch tell you first:
“The further you get away from yourself, the more challenging it is. Not to be in your comfort zone is great fun.”
In my own words:
It’s perfectly normal to feel unsure and wonder what might happen to your life if you step away from what you’re used to, but there’s a whole lot of stuff – including yourself – that you could be missing out on if you don’t.
And if you need a hand to hold or a hug when life feels really hard…
I got you.
