On taking risks

Almost exactly two months ago, I handed in my notice at work, taking something of a leap of faith.

Taking risks has never been my strength, but my time at my former job was bookended by just that. I was initially rejected for the job, but took the risk of calling and telling them they were wrong not to hire me (a risk that clearly paid off!). When I handed in my notice, it was a risk again – I was leaving with a plan to start up my own company, which will also hopefully pay off soon.  The safe, easy option would have been to stay, despite the fact I wasn’t 100% satisfied, and just trundle along.

Exactly a month since I walked out of the office on my last day, and I’m already feeling much more fulfilled.

I’m seeing friends more. I’ve made new friends, been to the cinema far too much (more in the last month than I have in the last year!).  

I have a new found love for brunch. I’m still undecided about Bloody Marys (…or should that be Maries?)

I’ve rediscovered my love for sitting in a coffee shop and getting my work done, whilst watching the world go by.

The point of this ramble? To remind myself to take more risks. So far, some of the happiest times I’ve had have come from the biggest risks – and my biggest regrets have come from not taking the risk that I knew in my gut I needed to take.

Until next time,

L x

 

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