The bubble is my struggle.
We all have our own struggles – those things we make ourselves believe that aren’t true. The voices in our heads telling us not to do what scares us. In her memoir, Amy Poehler calls them demons. Our demons tell us that we’re not enough. You can’t do “x” because you aren’t “z.”
My demon is my comfort zone. My bubble.
My bubble prevents me from doing things that make me afraid. It’s the voice in my head that tells me NO when all my heart tells me is to say yes. And it also advises me to say yes, when saying no is too difficult or scary.
Yet a life of perpetual comfort in my bubble isn’t a life at all, is it? Snorkeling with sharks and stingrays in Belize wasn’t comfortable. Going into a cave, swimming and climbing my way through with nothing but a dim headlamp wasn’t comfortable. Being in a room full of people speaking a language I don’t speak – you guessed it, not comfortable. But when I did all of those things, I felt so alive.
My bubble may sustain me when the going gets tough, after all it does bring me comfort when it’s not busy limiting me. Yet I must remember, and so should you, that I am NOT my bubble. My bubble doesn’t control my life – I control my life. The life of adventure, risks, being alive that I’ve glimpsed those few times I’ve stepped outside of my bubble? They made me feel more fulfilled and alive than a comfortable and predictable existence ever has or ever will. And that’s the true lesson.
Being 26 is scary.
Being in a job market that doesn’t always feel secure is scary.
The realization of my true passions and desires in life? Terrifying.
But is it worth ignoring my heart and giving up the opportunity to live the full life I desire simply because the bubble is an easy, safe place to be? Hell no.
I’m not my bubble – and neither are you. The only thing keeping me there, is me.
Time to burst.