what happens if i fail.

Before I decided not to move in May, I made a list. There were a lot of things that scared me about moving, but there were also a lot of things that scared me about staying. So I wrote it all out and tried to pick what I thought was the more difficult option. I was unsure of a lot of things, but I knew I didn't want to take the easy way out.

Now that I've made it here, my list of things that scare me has been mostly narrowed down to one thing: failure. I took a huge leap of faith in moving to Nashville, and if I fail, I'm going to fail huge. And the amount of pain it would cause might be unbearable. But then it occurred to me. Failing means I tried. It means twenty years from now, I will not wonder what if. It means I'd get to go home, where it's safe and comfortable and where dinner is prepared by someone other than me.

So, failing doesn't seem so bad. Failing actually seems like the easy way out. If I fail, at least I will know what to expect. But if I succeed, I will still be in the dark as to what happens next. This journey is incredible and hard and wonderful and scary and it kind of feels like I'm holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next.

If I fail, it will probably feel like I can breathe again.

If I don't fail, I will just have to trust that Someone else will do the breathing for me.