Last year for our anniversary, my partner surprised me with plane tickets to Japan. We had been tossing around the idea of going for a while and finally schedules and finances aligned well enough that, come September, we would be off. My initial reaction was excitement, followed by complete, overwhelming panic at the prospect of being so far away from home. I've never been particularly fond of traveling, between anxiety and changes in routine playing havoc with my neuro-divergent brain, it takes a lot out of me. It didn't help that it was the first time we would be taking such a trip together, and that I had never traveled abroad without my parents there to soothe me. My mind went into overdrive thinking about all the ways in which things could go wrong, and I drove my partner crazy with my questions and catastrophizing. The months between February and September passed in a blur of frantic google searches of popular attracts and calculations of just how much this whole adventure would cost. Eventually, both to calm my nerves and as my gift to him, I decided it would be a good idea to invite my partner's friend who had already been to Japan to join us as a sort of guide/travel agent. With his help, reservations were made, tickets for museums were purchased, routes were planned, and before I knew it, the three of us were packed and headed to the airport.
It was my partner's first trip abroad. None of us spoke the language, and of course I was way out of my element but, to my disbelief, we survived. It was exactly as daunting as I imagined and 10xs more beautiful than I could have dreamed. We toured a tea plantation, visited an island full of cats*, discovered the wonders of convenience stores and public transit, saw some original Hayao Miyazaki sketches, and tried sea urchin for the first time. Every day was exhausting and wonderful and every place we visited is burned into my soul. When we got back, as silly as it may sound, I felt like I had done something impossible. For the months leading up to the trip I was so sure that I wasn't going to make it. That fear or some terrible circumstance would keep me in my safe little bubble. But I got on that plane. And I took a ferry (even though I'm terrified of boats as it turns out), and I was decisive and able to calmly switch track when issues arose. I learned I'm capable of handling and doing a lot more than I originally thought. Which is good, because since being back stateside I've made yet another decision to push me out of my little corner.
Stories have been my life for as long as I can remember. In 6th grade for a career presentation I talked about becoming an author, my second of year of community college I switched my degree path to English literature and after getting my associate's I went all in on and graduated with a Bachelor's degree in creative writing. I was so convinced that publishing was the only way forward for me and yet, through much discussion and reevaluating of my long-term goals, I made the decision to transition from the publishing industry into marketing. It's been a... slow process, to put it generously. I'm learning new skills, finding networking opportunities, and, as you might have guessed, keeping this blog to help me get used to promoting myself and my work. I've become obsessed with the technical aspects of SEO and the excitement of birthing a brand but, more importantly, I love how it has encouraged me to think about connecting with people and using my creativity in different ways.
Jumping into the unknown has been incredibly scary and, just like when I first saw those plane tickets, I don't know what's waiting for me on the other side of this whole thing. However, I'm willing to bet that if I keep putting myself out there and stop hiding out, I'll end up surprised to see how far I've come.
*There were a total of 6 cats which does not cat island make but honestly the view was incredible and the cats were cute so I'm not exactly mad.