How do you make major life-changing decisions? I ask this seriously because while I’ve made some major decisions (hello moving across the world because I was bored!) I’m not entirely sure how to go about making them.

Do you follow your gut? Do you make them impulsively and hope to hell you got it right?

I remember the moment I decided to move to Canada. I was at a Tony Robbins seminar with my brother – my father had sent us mainly because he thought my brother needed it and then he didn’t want to seem like he was favouring one sibling over the other, so I got to go too. I think I ended up benefitting more than my brother did.

I remember the moment – it was on day 3. We were asked to make 2 decisions – one small and one major. The small decision would seem insignificant, just take us 10% off the path we were on. The big decision would be huge but we would set a time frame and make it definite. My small decision was to stop caring what people thought of me. Yeah, that’s still a work in progress. But my big decision, made in September 2006 was that, in one year’s time, I would be living overseas. Done.

And I made it happen. I got the visa, I got the job, I picked up, packed up, and moved my ass across the world. I figured that I had nothing holding me back other than family and I was young so yay adventure. I was stuck in a rut – professionally, socially, everything. The only way I knew how to break out was to GO.

And the move was the best thing I ever did. I settled down, made friends with people who didn’t know my brother, my parents or had any expectations of me other than that I was the crazy Aussie chick. I got fit, got healthy, got happy.

And then I met Lee. And now I have some more major decisions to make. Because we need a plan to be in the same country, same city. And nobody said it was going to be easy.

I’m torn but I’m not. I know, that makes no sense. On the one hand, I’ve build myself an awesome life here. I have a job that I love (most of the time), friends who are amazing and who I feel super close to, an apartment I feel at home in and generally, a good life.

But now I’ve met Lee. I’m  sorry, I did promise no more posts about him but seriously, I lied.

So I know that the chances of him getting a visa to come over here are very slim. I know that he could get work in Australia very easily. I know I could get work back home very easily. I know that we would be closer to family and support. I wouldn’t have the issues with credit that I have here. I’d be out of the rut that I was in before so my move would have achieved everything it needed to.

And to be honest, I’m coming around to the idea of moving back over there. It wouldn’t necessarily be moving home per se as we’d probably move to Sydney, not Melbourne (*sniff*) but it would be closer. And if you’d asked me 2 months ago if I would be thinking about moving back, I would have laughed.

But here I am.

I’m a little scared to be honest. I don’t know why. I’m scared that all this will have been for nothing. That I’ll revert to who I was before even though I know I won’t. It’s like that’s the big bad wolf and I escaped but i don’t know why I’m even thinking that. I’m actually mentally getting myself ready to move, even though it wouldn’t be until the end of the year if anything. I’m still going through with my Canadian paperwork, mainly because I think taking options off the table is silly. I’m thinking about getting rid of my stuff (anyone need any kitchen stuff? I have good stuff …) so it’s easier to move.

I guess I’m excited and scared at the same time.

Yeah, this was a ramble. Sorry about that. Regular programming to resume tomorrow. I promise. In fact, I’ll write the post now. It’ll be about my first ever tennis lesson. It’s a funny one.


A pat on my back

If you had told me 2 years ago that I’d be doing unmodified push-ups and lifting weights twice a week and joining a volleyball team, I would have laughed. I would have told you that I couldn’t do that, that weights are frightening or that I don’t do team sports (I probably still shouldn’t be ssssh).

But I made a decision in September 2007. Two decisions actually – one small and one huge. The first decision was that I was going try to stop caring about what other people thought and listen to myself first. That was actually the small decision. The huge decision was that I was going to move overseas in 12 months. That was huge, admit it. But my small decision was hardly that small either. I realized that I was (still am in some ways) totally hung up on appearances and possible judgements and perceptions that I shied away from doing things in case I screwed up. In case I didn’t do well because 15 years ago I screwed up when I tried that and I’m never doing it again.

Case in point: I got my learner’s permit at 16. I went for a driving lesson with a complete idiot as my driving instructor. She had me going at a snail’s pace in 2nd gear for the entire time and leant out the window yelling “get out the way! Learner driver!” No I’m not joking. I didn’t get back into a car for a year.

Case in point 2: I tried out for my school’s netball team in grade school (yes, I am going back that far!) – my school was huge and had 5 teams per grade, A through E. I tried out and some stupid mother told me that I wasn’t even good enough for the bottom team. I was worse than the girls who were cross-eyed. I never tried out for another team sport again.

I could come up with a million different examples but you get the point. I struggle with not embarrassing myself; with expectations and with perceived judgements. Because they are really perceived now. Nobody tells me that I “can’t” anymore – I do that myself. But I made the decision to stop doing that.

So I lift weights and strive for the heaviest I can lift and still be able to get 3-4 sets of 12 out. I push myself when I realize that I got to 12 easily. I am working on banishing negative self talk when I’m playing volleyball (that’s a challenge and I’m aware of it). But the fact that I signed up for volleyball is a huge step in itself: I opened myself up to potentially screwing up and embarrassing myself in front of people I work with. Huge step.

So I’m proud of myself, even though I STILL can’t serve and get the ball over the net. I’m proud of myself for being a work in progress and becoming someone who tries things instead of wussing out. I’m proud of myself for becoming someone that people ask advice from. That’s kinda huge. I need to remind myself how proud I am when I start letting things get me down and wishing I could hide.