DO THE SCARY THING

The events of last year add up to a force of chaos and art, which is exactly how I ended up here.

My Dad died. I turned thirty and spent a month traveling Italy by train. Took another two months off to rediscover what I want out of life. Had the typical “why have I been climbing the career ladder into a corporate void” crisis. Got a dog. Ultimately, I quit my well-paying tech marketing job to jump headfirst into freelance. Oh, and I’m writing a book.

Altogether making me a living, breathing cliche, if you ask me. I blame the Italian sun for melting my inhibitions just enough to figure out what needed to come next. 

I have seen no better time in my life to do exactly what I’m doing. To some of you, I'm old, and to others, young. To me, I'm just right. Either way, so far this age feels unhinged, carefree, wide-open. 

Fortunately for me, on this path that I have chosen, I can be authentically me. No bullshit. Sure, there will be clients to please, some jargon still to swallow, but I no longer feel shackled to poor decisions that aren’t mine. Yes, old white men in suits are who I’m referring to. No hate to those who enjoy the assembly line, but my god, leaving the 9-5 is incredibly freeing on all fronts. Maybe even too much so. 

These aren’t overly profound words or sentiments you haven’t heard before. Just a reminder for me, for you, anyone with the privilege of choice. A full existence requires us to do the scary things. And to do such things, you only need to begin. 

Quit the job.

Move to a new city.

Create something new. 

I am a writer simply because I decided one day to be one. As soon as I put words down on the page, typed in my notes app, or scribbled on margins. One step closer to creating something than when they were only floating around in my head. 

You can be whatever you want to be. As soon as you begin. That’s the beauty of creating, being. Perfection doesn’t exist. The only true sign of failure is not to try. 

Just like any other brand-building role, I’ve had to ask myself the tough questions. Who am I? (Ooph) How do I want to be perceived? What story am I trying to tell? Am I marketable? I would be lying if I said it hasn’t been a bit overwhelming. It’s always level-hard when it gets personal. And the self-doubt sneaks in, even in the moments you’re feeling the most confident. That goes for any artistic pursuit, I think? Embracing those feelings rather than shying away from them is the difference between succeeding or not. There’s always opportunity lying within the ambiguity. Just don’t ask me if I have it figured out yet.  

This has been one semi-long-winded way of welcoming you on this journey of mine. Not even I’m sure where it will take me, but I’m ready for the ride. Take from it what you will. To be honest, this blog isn’t for you. Rather for me. To assure myself that I can still write anything half-decent and coherent in a form longer than a tagline or a poetic phrase. I’ll let you be the judge of that. 

Doesn’t really matter, though, because I’m already a writer.