This is a story I shared with my email subscribers today. And then I thought, hey, it feels universal enough to have up here too… Without further ado
I burned the boat, the bridges, the so-called "safe" option.
And here I stand, with an optimistic (panicked) smile posing as a life-jacket.
The afore-mentioned "boat" was a dependable day-job. Something that, in times of Covid and uncertainty, certainly looked nice on paper. In theory. In logical terms.
Yeah it looked nice on paper. Good hours, good pay. Swedes. (Who knows they might even have Swedish Zoegas coffee and licorice hidden away somewhere). But...
They wanted someone to stay - longterm.
And I can't lie.
This strange Covid-year gave me a very punch-out-my-teeth-blessing-in-disguise. It gave me no excuses not to go for what I really love to do. Sing and act. Creative projects. Make ideas happen, use my voice.
My former financial cushion was a job as a guide. Well, needless to say, tourism has had better years.
I was put in this position in life to say, fuck it, if not now - then when?
This made burning the day-job bridge "easy".
I told them the truth - I have other ambitions for my life, and that's not sleek purses and state dinners.
It's film, it's the theatre, it's the stage.
It felt freeing to speak my truth. I was top on the world! I had 3 concerts in central Bucharest, we worked with intensity and fire in our eyes and then...
… I found myself feeling like shit.
Oh, all the self-doubt came hurdling towards me, and there I stood, right before a concert while setting up, thinking to myself "I SUCK at this"
I texted my vocal coach and friend who quickly talked me down the ledge of "I can't sing!"-BS that was swirling around in my head.
Well, I got up to the microphone and I sang and things were fine. Yet, the days to come, I still had this... feeling of questioning who I am a singer and what do I really want from life, and am I "good enough" to do what I want to.
More than anything else, what I learned from this experience is that when I give myself what I want there's a part of me that's going to try to protect myself from it.
In this case, the old part of me that longs for safety was lovingly bullying me to re-think my decision. She doesn't do it to be mean, she genuinely wants me to be safe.
When we burn the bridge, the boat, whatever you want to call that "safe choice" - it's scary.
The road that lies ahead is unknown. And burning the bridge means... well. It means we can't go back. Now there's only forward and who knows what scary monsters lurk over there.
But who knows.. Maybe the monsters are really cute? :)