"Ready"

I’m sitting on my $200 Amazon couch. The same $200 couch I bought three months after moving into my apartment. The same $200 Amazon couch that, to me, signified the start to me building a life within my little apartment in Boston.

Up until that point, I was living pretty much on my bed, which, I might add, was the bed that the old tenant left me (she seemed normal and I checked it for bed bugs, relax).

3 years later, I’m sitting on this couch for the last time.

I’m making an overly dramatic big deal in my mind about moving out of this apartment, but it’s because for 11 years of my life, it’s all that really mattered to me.

When I finally got my ish together in college, I remember working 16 hour days, and when I had anytime to think all I said in my head was, “Boston, Boston, Boston.” I pictured this apartment for years. It’s what kept me going during long days. It’s what kept me going during times of self-doubt, confusion, and often, feeling helpless as I “grew up” into the “real world.”

And so, while moving from one apartment to another might not be the world’s biggest deal, to me, right now, it kind of is.

Because while I have things I’m working on and goals I want to accomplish in this next phase of my life, I also admittedly don’t have something so precise in my head that I’m working toward. For the first time, in a long time, I don’t know what will take the place of, “Boston, Boston, Boston,” to get me through.

Because now, I feel settled. I feel content. I feel like I accomplished what I set out to do.

And while that’s a weird feeling, perhaps a little scary, too—it’s also exciting.

It’s exciting to think about what could come and where I’m going to go—even if I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet.

And I think the reason it’s maybe a little extra exciting, is because of what accomplishing this dream has taught me.

Is because of what living this dream has taught me.

Because following my path—my drive to make it to my own apartment in the city? Well it taught me something.

You see the past three years, perhaps the past six years, I’ve been growing into who I am today. Someone strong, full of passion, in love with herself and her life—balanced. Someone that works hard but plays hard, too. Someone who remembers who she is but doesn’t lose sight of who she wants to become. Someone who forgives herself and others for “falling short.” Someone who gets back up again. Someone who knows she has a ton to learn, and gives herself the space to learn it. Someone who takes ownership of her energy and her life—instead of letting others do that for her.

Someone who, in the words of the legendary Bill, “gets it.”

When I used to picture my life in Boston and this apartment, I pictured someone as I just described. I pictured her walking off the plane and living her first years in her apartment in the way someone who “gets it” would.

But the thing is, when I moved here I wasn’t that person. And I think I thought that maybe, the girl walking onto the plane would be different than the girl walking off.

Turns out, the five hour plane ride didn’t “fix” me.

I made this move before I was that person. I made this move when I was far from someone who understood balance and self love and forgiveness and space. I made this move when I was a young twenty something—unsure of herself, confused, anxious, living in scarcity—entirely afraid.

Here’s what this dream taught me.

I didn’t need to be that person when I made this move. I didn’t need to be further along in my journey of self-love and self-discovery and insert every other mushy name for finding oneself here.

I didn’t need to be “ready.”

Because making the move before I was ready? That is what made me who I am today.

That is what taught me those lessons.

That is what made me the person I had always pictured myself to be.

I didn’t wait until I was ready. I kept dreaming. I kept moving. Even on my darkest days but four years ago, when I barely recognized myself in the mirror and didn’t have an ounce of faith in the person staring back at me—I kept moving.

And that’s why I am who I am today.

Someone who is ready.

And ready doesn’t mean perfect. I fall back. I have irrational thoughts. I make mistakes. I fall. I fail.

I get. the f. back. up.

So, what I’m ready for? I’m not totally sure. But I know that I have myself to thank for going after it before I was ready.

I know I have myself to thank (and all of the people that have supported me) to thank for the person I am today.

And so. If you need to take time, by all means, take time. If you are ready this second, by all means, go do whatever you’re looking to do this second.

Just remember that “ready” might not look like you think it does.

Just remember that “ready” isn’t necessarily a place you need to stop and gas up before you get to your destination.

Because I think, maybe, pushing through the times that you don’t feel ready might be what life is actually all about.

I think, maybe, continuing to move—not stopping—might actually be what makes you grow into who you’re supposed to be.

I think it might actually be what makes you someone who is “ready.”