I hate change.
Well, most change.
I really enjoy having a stable living situation, romantic interest, and somewhat steady job.
Don’t get me wrong, spontaneity is my middle name
However I enjoy having the same friends I’ve had for 6+ years.
I love being in a long term relationship.
I love knowing Nashville like the back of my hand because I’ve been here for a minute.
But then all of a sudden, usually out of nowhere
And when it enters into my dramatic, soap opera of a life,
It’s usually a boat load of change.
All at once.
Every season of depression that’s moved over me like a fog, has bloomed out of big changes happening in my life.
But this year has really sent me into a spiral of change.
It all started with a change in my job.
It needed to happen, honestly.
Have you ever worked somewhere that sucked every positive fiber out of your body like a soul sucking vampire?
Well, I was working that job for the past year.
It dug me into a very dark place for a few months.
I hadn’t felt such hopelessness since sophomore year of college when i was committed to a psychiatric hospital.
I started becoming a very pessimistic and honestly, bitchy person.
Which is very much not my nature.
This job turned me into someone completely unrecognizable.
I hated the person I saw in the mirror every morning.
So changing to a new job was just necessary.
And then of course came the breakup.
Dating someone long term
Seeing them almost everyday
Being in love
And having someone who supported me constantly, loved me perfectly, and was my absolute best friend was a dream.
But then I woke up.
And it was over.
That change hit me like a ton of bricks.
And last but not least here I am,
Yep, you heard me.
I’m leaving Nashville.
Almost got ya there, huh?
Basically, I’m heading out to sea to sing on a boat for four months.
I’ve never even been on a big boat.
But here I am, making moves and packing up my whole life to leave the city I spent so long planting my roots in.
Because all of a sudden,
I’m single and basically a pirate.
This is not how I pictured I’d start my 25th year in life.
But a few weeks ago, I went cliff jumping with my best friend.
Something I’ve never tried before.
I’m not one to just throw myself off of cliffs.
But I thought,
what the hell? I don’t even know who I am anymore. Maybe I do jump off cliffs.
And I jumped off the smaller cliffs, no problem.
But there was one huge cliff.
Like over 40 feet tall cliff.
And I decided I was going to jump off.
Old Becca would’ve thought,
Um, no. You have to be at work tomorrow and what if you break your leg? Or if you die? Who’s gonna take care of your cat?
But new change-embracing Becca thought,
I’ve spent so many years avoiding change.
Because I’ve always tripped and fell into seasons of change completely unprepared.
And it always sends me into a complete tailspin.
But this time is different.
I am not afraid.
I can go on a boat.
I can be single.
I can leave Nashville.
I can leave all the people I love and they won’t forget about me.
I can do this and I won’t avoid it anymore.
So I prayed before leaping off that cliff.
I thought about making my decisions based of faith instead of crippling fear.
I thought about the customers who have screamed at me for giving them a hot latte instead of an iced one.
I thought about saying goodbye to a wonderful relationship that had to be put to rest.
I thought about my therapist in the hospital years ago who told me it had to get better and I was going to live a long happy life.
I thought about my family moving out of state to get on with their lives after moving here just to make sure I’d remain on this earth for as long as possible.
I thought about my cat and how sad he’s going to be because he won’t understand why I leave one day and don’t come back for him because I’ll be on a boat.
I thought about the love of my life, and how excited I am to meet him.
And I had this overwhelming feeling surging through my veins.
Everything is going to be okay.
I can leap off this cliff and live.
I can leap into change and live.
I can make decisions and live.
I will not melt into a depressed puddle of a person.
Not this time.
So I ran
And I flew.