I had recently posted about feeling a little home sick; I am officially without a home.
A friend of mine, whom I honestly don’t know that well, but would really like to know better, has been posting about “risk”. He has been posting with quite a bit of suspense as truthfully, I don’t know what risk he has taken, but I sit by idly waiting for the newest segment of his post to give me more clues as to what his risks are.
It led me to send him an email that I, too, have taken quite a large risk and that sometimes they are more than necessary. I feel like I had been looking over an edge of a cliff for months, knowing exactly what it is I needed to do, and finally just jumped. I jumped with a parachute that I wasn’t completely sure would work, but it was a risk I had to take in order to survive. Sometimes there are risks – necessary, scary as shit risks – that you have to make in life in order to better yourself as an individual. Truth be told – the only thing in this world that should matter is you. You; the betterment of your mind, your body, your soul – you only get one chance at this life, why not make it the best imaginable?
So I jumped.
I jumped and I screamed. I cried and I prayed, despite not being a religious person, but I’ve prayed. I’ve prayed that someone will be down there ready to catch me. I’ve prayed that I will have friends that will be strong enough to support me. I’ve prayed and wished and hoped that I won’t be so damaged by the time I get to the bottom that I’ll be able to love again. I jumped hoping that there is something down there for me, waiting to catch me delicately, and hold me so near that I can feel the security of life again.
What I’ve risked is a life of financial security for a life of independence and financial freedom. I had a life with a man who provided me with what every 1950’s girl would have wanted – a house, a home, and money. But – I’m not a 1950’s girl who is dictated by a man. I’m not a girl who is okay with being financially suffocated when there is no need for financial suffocation. I’m not a woman who is okay living her life in fear of spending money for fear of explaining why I did it.
So I jumped.
I realized that the relationship I was in was becoming toxic and it was slowly poisoning who I was and who I wanted to be. I realized that there was no future with him that I found admirable or safe. I found that there was a fear I had in myself of living my life in fear of the world. I found that there was something else out there worth living for.
So I jumped.
This is my risk: That I’m being a childish girl with hopeful dreams and hoping that I am able to stand on my own two feet as an independent woman free from dictation and full of admiration.
I’ve jumped, and I’m still falling, but I’m starting to feel that parachute working. I think I’m going to be okay.