Risk and regret. Two such heavily loaded words that have, of late, cropped up a number of times during conversations with myself in the shower. Don’t judge, I know you do it too.
I never thought of myself as a big risk taker. Sure, I was never one to ‘settle’ but I also thought myself rather fond of the ever-controversial comfort zone. When I look back at my life so far, I see someone who fell into a career at a young age and continued along that path because everything else was unknown, unfamiliar territory. After six years, however, I finally had the ‘aha’ moment where I came to the mildly terrifying yet largely unsurprising conclusion that I just didn’t love the world of tax and accounting. Believe me, I too was shocked.
Having never previously ventured far beyond my tax haven, I had no idea what the next steps would be. So, being an adult, I asked my daddy…and after many conversations and countless hours spent trawling the internet for more advice on how to live my life from that point forward, I settled on marketing.
Suffice to say, after six months of online study, I was sold. Unfortunately, however, the employers of Australia were not quite so convinced of my burgeoning marketing prowess.
It would have been so easy to fall apart at this time. I could have convinced myself that I had made a colossal mistake in trying to change my entire career at the ripe old age of 24(!!). I could have wasted my days regretting all of my decisions…but I didn’t. I packed up my bags and flew headfirst into a brand new, albeit unknown, life in London. Some would call this a risk.
As I have said many times before in my previous Bucket List Begins and Living Abroad posts, London was the greatest risk I ever took. So much so that after mere weeks, it was difficult to see it as having ever been a risk at all.
Fast-forward three years and I find myself in familiar territory. After toughing it out in Sydney for a year, I finally felt ready to return home to Melbourne. I did, however, have a nagging feeling that returning to Melbourne would feel like a backwards step, almost as though the previous three years had never happened. I did it anyway, risk junkie that I am.
Was I expecting to land my dream job one week after arriving back home? No, because life is hardly ever that simple. Almost four months into this new chapter, however, and the dollars continue to deplete as I battle on in my job hunt and also consistently choose to live my best avocado-filled life.
Some days, I happily wave goodbye to feelings of optimism and almost succumb to the dreaded feeling of regret. I have moments, some lasting longer than others, of doubt, but I refuse to let them consume me.
It may take a week, a month or even a year (just hide the avocados now please), I just don’t know. What I do know is this; I’d rather my life be a daring adventure than nothing at all.
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