I opened up a word doc last night and wrote out the months until the big move to Edmonton. This morning, I put bullet points in between the months to indicate that I have a lot of things to do before I am able to worry less. Then I stopped because I became a little anxious, to say the least, and decided that I can come back to it later. Procrastination at it’s worst. I keep telling myself that I have six months. Yeah, Belle, six months that will not be kind to me if you don’t pay attention. I write in third person sometimes when I get nervous.

Lying in bed this morning, I had thoughts of all the things that I should be writing down because I’ll forget it all and miss something and what if it all goes wrong or what if I miss something so important that I can’t make the move out there for when I’m aiming to (FINALLY) leave this town.

I’m not running away. I’m running towards a life I want to start. A life that is a new beginning for new adventures and experiences. A life that I want to be a part of. 

It’s hard to not think about my move like this as I have been notorious about running away from situations and events, and even people, that I don’t necessarily want to deal with or be a part of. The effort to think of it as my move to a new part of my life and not leaving another one behind because I am afraid will take a lot but I’m willing to do it. I am so scared about this new venture, this new phase in my life, but that’s how I know how much I care about it. In the middle of my quarter-life crisis and I’m moving to another city with all the responsibilities and hair-falling-out moments that come along with it.

I’m just such a sucker for not asking for help when I need it. I don’t understand if it’s because I’m too proud or that I hate the vulnerability of it all or.. well, it’s probably all of it and more. More that I don’t want to admit because the list is too long, in my mind, already. I’m so incredibly independent it hurts my in the long run sometimes. I’ve become so accustomed to it; I was raised with so much love and guidance that I ran away from it most of the time. I always needed to feel that I was doing a good job on my own. That at the end of the day, I worked hard and I deserve everything that I had earned.

With this big move, I already know I need to understand that I will need to learn how to ask for help and not be ashamed of it or myself after. I will need to understand that I will embrace the insecurities and vulnerability that comes along with admitting that I can’t do it on my own.

I was in my campus bookstore earlier and stumbled upon a book titled, “The Art of Asking.” I picked it up and behold the working of the universe. The forward was given by one of my favourite researchers that I had found on TEDTalks and the author herself was one that also gave TEDtalks about her experiences in life. Life works in ways that I am happy that I don’t understand sometimes. I may just have to pick it up (haha).



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