I’m a pretty predictable person.
Every wall in my house is gray. My couches are gray. My rug is gray. My countertops are gray. My cat is gray. Oh, I’m looking to buy new bedding – but does it come in gray?
I follow the rules. I walk on the sidewalk. I read the instructions. I do things in order. I overanalyze. Everything.
I own five maxi dresses and two jumpsuits – all of them are blue. I tend to buy what the mannequin is wearing. I like neutrals. Solids. Plain. I rotate through the same two necklaces – one silver, one gold.
I have been with my husband for 14 years. We’ve had the damn cat for 10 years. We live in the same small town where we were born and raised.
I live within my comfort zone. Inside my box.
And frankly, it’s getting boring.
I’m 31 years old, and I’m starting to feel like my story is already written. The End. Like the universe has said, “This is your life, Samantha,” and now there’s no wiggle room for change. Which is ridiculous, I know, but inside my head I just keep hearing, “What’s next? Where do I go from here?”
Am I content with where I am, or am I going to dare to be uncomfortable? I bought a Peloton spin bike this year for my husband, and I swear every time Cody Rigsby looks at me through that screen during a ride and tells me to “embrace the uncomfortable” I want to smack the grin off his face. But he’s right.
To grow, I have to get uncomfortable.
So, I’ve started doing a few things each week that are outside my wheelhouse. Small things. Things that make me a little nervous, anxious, and uncomfortable. I challenge you to do the same.
For example, I started working out. Do I like to sweat? Absolutely not. But I also don’t particularly like the way I look anymore. Especially after two pregnancies. I got my first compliment last week. Someone noticed. And while I have a WAYS to go, those words felt earned.
I went out for drinks the other night with a group of women I didn’t know. I was invited, I wanted to go, but I was hesitant because I wouldn’t know anyone. Guess what? I had fun, and I still don’t know what any of their names were.
My sister has asked me a hundred times to play Dungeons & Dragons. I never do. The whole gamer fantasy world just isn’t my thing. I don’t know anything about it, and it makes me anxious just trying to navigate that realm. A few weeks ago I caved, created a dwarf cleric character named Pompeo, and went on a quest to negotiate with the mermaids. And I had a blast.
I bought tickets to an Indianapolis Colts game in New Orleans the other day, totally on a whim. Who is going to watch my kids? Where are we going to stay? Who cares. I have no plan, and for me that’s something. I have never been to NOLA, but deep down I know that if I really want to get in to travel I have to start exploring the unknown.
It’s not much, but it’s a start. What are you doing to grow?