Reality check

It’s been a weird week. This past week has been a transition (vacation to everyday) with a transition (hello 32!) within a transition (American moved to Australia!) and with that has come a lot of reality checks. For so long, my vacation to the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree Rainforest was something I was looking forward to, something I was working towards, and now that it’s over reality has started to set in.

Reality check #1. Sydney is my reality now. I’m planning to live here and stay here for the foreseeable future (well that is, if the visa gods work out in my favor). With no more vacations planned or holiday travel to look forward to (and it’s been ages since that’s been the case…maybe since 2013), it’s now all about the present, which can be an exciting and sobering — and maybe mindful? — reality. It’s forced me to really hone in, and maybe panic a little, on what needs to happen in order to stay here longer and to continue to build out my life here. I’ve been working hard but now there feels like even more pressure to work even harder. Recognizing Sydney as my reality now also means finally acknowledging that it’s a lot harder to just spontaneously go to my parents’ home for a hug and home-cooked meal and that at some point I’m going to need to stop taping things to my apartment walls (are you in college?!) and start buying things (frames!) like I mean to live here.

Reality check #2. Living in another country on the opposite ends of the earth is fucking hard. I’m going to let my inner petty out for a little bit: I’m a secret-not-so-secret birthday girlie and this year was a reality check of celebrating my birthday in a country that is (currently) 14 hours ahead of New York. It meant waking up to few texts and even fewer (zero) calls; more messages came in the next day, my birth date back in the US, when my birthday had already passed (I did say I was going to let out my inner petty). During a week where I was struggling transitioning from spending every day with a close friend from New York to coming back to a fledgling community in Sydney, it was easy to feel every insecurity that comes with moving abroad. I moved to a place that’s so far removed from the US that sometimes I wonder if it also means that I’m also so far removed from the minds of my family and friends. Does my family still remember me? Do my friends still love me? And most importantly — do I still matter? A fellow expat shared with me that when you experience a big life change (like moving abroad) it’s easy to see what’s missing, but for those back home things remain largely the same with the small exception of being gone. It’s not to say you’re not important or that you don’t matter, just that the perspective is different. I don’t say this to blame or shame, just to point this out of being my reality.

Reality check #3. I’m doing okay so far and I’m kinda…cool? This weekend also happened to be the three month mark of settling into Sydney. This was probably the happiest reality check and milestone because this was a moment where I actually started to pat myself on the back a little for all that I’m accomplished so far in the three months since moving here.

• I’m working at a croissanterie surrounded by my greatest loves (hi you beautiful bouncy proofed croissant). I’m working with smart, interesting, and kind humans who’ve introduced me to a whole different side of business. I’m acting as a “line baker” (lol entirely made up title) rolling up pain au chocolats, piping cream onto danishes, folding ham and cheeses, peppering the head pastry chef with all of my baking questions. I’m building relationships with the regulars who visit and genuinely can’t stop smiling throughout the entire shift, despite a one hour commute at 6am, because I’m bringing joy through the simple act of handing over a coffee and croissant.

• I’m a yoga and Pilates instructor, fresh off my yoga certification in January. This is another thing that I’d only fantasized about, thinking that it wouldn’t be possible — that it was too out of reach and that I’d never have enough courage to go do something different, and yet here I am. I’ve reunited with my first love, Pilates, and started teaching mat Pilates again. I’m not a perfect teacher and teaching comes with its own insecurities (that’ll have to be its own post), but the joy and peace that I can gift to students is humbling and awe-inspiring. I get so much personal joy in empowering people to feel comfortable in their bodies, and to get to do this on a regular basis is a privilege.

• I’m starting to build a network and community of sorts in different areas. I’m a regular at the pole studio (back after a decade away) and even had my first performance two weeks ago! I love tapping into my sensuality and expressing my deep femininity and am constantly inspired and excited by the other students in the studio. I’ve also had numerous coffee chats with colleagues who work in brand strategy (wow what a transition ha) thanks to cold calls and people being generous with their time. I’ve been honored and humbled by people’s willingness to gift their time and continue to be inspired and excited by the conversations I have about strategy and brand — this has only cemented my decision to pursue a career in brand strategy. I’m not being shy about asking friends to put me in contact with friends to get to meet (and hopefully make) new friends.

The final reality check. The final reality check is that it’s now that halfway mark: I only have six months left on my current visa, and so the anxiety and panic are also starting to settle in as I feel the pressure to find an employer who will sponsor me. But I tell myself that if things don’t work out for whatever reason, as long as I’ve tried my best, I’ll feel good no matter the outcome.

And yet. 

Have I tried my hardest? Am I trying my best?

I don’t know. 

I constantly feel like I’m not doing enough. And sure, in the rare times where I’ve actually confided to a friend (because feelings are hard and who likes to feel feelings anyways) they’ve gently called me out putting too much pressure on myself while dealing with a lot.

My friend’s not wrong — I am putting pressure on myself to do better, because I don’t want to be the reason why things don’t work out. I don’t want to look back and think “damn, I wish I tried harder” — that would be the toughest regret.

I don’t know what “trying harder” looks like. In my (skewed?) view, it means working 8 hours a day 7 days a week trying to find a job in brand strategy. But when I step back and observe that definition, it looks a bit ridiculous. I don’t want to lose out on living life in sole pursuit of a corporate job because I’ve defined my entire self-worth on whether or not I’m working an office job (and which I spent an entire year trying to unbrainwash myself out of). Yet it’s not surprising that I still instinctively default to defining my value based on my job. Case in point: In a recent phone call my we;;-intentioned dad said he’d visit me once I was settled in, a comment my parents have made multiple times. When I summed up the courage to ask what “settled in” meant, he said it meant once I found a [corporate] job because if he visited now, it’d mean me taking time away from my job search to spend time with him. 😆.

Ten years from now, when I look back on this time and the freedom and flexibility I have, I don’t want to regret spending all of my time searching for a job (also please note that I actually do have two jobs — they are just not corporate jobs that my parents want, and also I’m 32 years old why do I care so much about what my parents think?!) and missing out on living in this beautiful city with its great outdoors.

But more importantly, I don’t want to look back on this time and regret acting, or lacking action, out of fear.

I think what "my best” looks like can be answered by this question: Are your actions driven by fear of not being enough or the fear of failure? Or are you driven by love?

Not romantic love, the kind of love that “they” tell you is the only kind of love that’s out there. But love in its purest sense — love for yourself that blossoms into the form of courage, compassion, and hope.

Are you living each day out of love for, rather than fear of? 

I don’t want to look back on this time and regret that I held back — held myself back — because I was scared. I want to look back and know that I put myself out there, tried my best, and that that was enough.

So I guess it’s time to go do the things.