Growing Pains

Have I made a mistake?

The panic rises in my chest, my airways reflexively constricting.

How do I wade through the expectations and judgements to find what I want? How do I quiet the chatter to hear what is on my heart?

I thought I had done that. Now I second-guess myself.

Is a good career-move a good personal move?

Am I scared or is it not right?

How can I tell the difference?

Days ago, I examined my options and made this decision. I said, “I can’t believe I even considered passing this up.” I cling to that memory of confidence. I don’t feel an ounce of it any longer.

It’s too late anyway. The ball is rolling.

And so I sit in my discomfort. This is my reckoning. Long naps, late nights, empty fridge shelves, and aimless thoughts won’t cut it anymore. But I don’t want to hide my real problems by just putting a bandaid of new problems on it. Is that what I’m doing?

Right now I am thinking about everything I will miss—that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, it just means my experience has been worthwhile and meaningful.

Growing pains.