There’s something about the unknown that hits me straight in the chest — and not in the romantic, poetic way people talk about “new beginnings.”
For me, the unknown has always started with one feeling: dread.
My body reacts before my brain even catches up.
My chest tightens. My fight-or-flight switch flips. I shut down, go numb, and feel that instinctive pull to retreat back into safety.
Part of that comes from life experience — the messy, human kind that leaves impressions you don’t totally realize until you’re older. I can look back now and see exactly where that fear started. I stepped into adventures with people who couldn’t regulate their emotions, people whose anger or disappointment was always waiting around the corner. When things went wrong, it somehow became my fault. Walking into the unknown meant walking into potential blame, shame, or chaos.
And yet… here’s the complicated part.
Whenever I chose the unknown — when I applied for new jobs or followed my own instincts — things actually worked out. I grew. I changed my life. I moved forward in ways I never would have if I’d stayed tucked away in my comfort zone.
So the fear isn’t really about capability or outcomes.
It’s about safety.
It’s about control.
It’s about stability — the three things I’ve had to build for myself over and over again.
But underneath all of that? There’s still a spark of hope.
A quiet part of me that believes the unknown might hold more joy, more happiness, more cherished memories, more of the life I’m working so hard to create.
I think that’s the part I’m learning to listen to now — the hopeful part.
Not the dread.
Not the shutdown.
Not the fight-or-flight reflex from an old version of me who had to protect herself at all costs.
This season of my life is about learning to walk into the unknown with more softness, more confidence, and a lot more grace for myself. It’s about acknowledging the fear without letting it own the whole story. And it’s about remembering that the unknown isn’t always a threat — sometimes it’s an invitation.
An invitation to surprise myself.
To trust myself.
To build new memories that feel light instead of heavy.
To step into something better than what I’ve left behind.
And honestly?
That’s a path I’m willing to keep exploring — one small, brave step at a time.
