I am the woman with big dreams and big fears who goes for it anyway.
I am the visionary who knows every angle of every risk and still shows up to fail over and over again until I get it right.
I am the perfectionist fighting against my own brain, willing myself to try again, to put myself out there one more time.
I feel the pressure in my chest, in my jaw. I feel the butterflies in my stomach, the weight on my shoulders. And I breathe through it. Because I know this is temporary, but my dreams are not.
I’ve tried to run from that nagging hope I have that I can do something amazing. It doesn’t work. It comes back stronger.
I’m starting to learn from it and do the same.
I’m learning to love the flaws of the journey. To familiarize myself with the nuanced sensations of anxiety and excitement, choosing excitement every time.
I’m the girl boss who doesn’t feel like a boss when she sits in front of her screen for an hour before pressing send, panicked that it’s all wrong and everyone will find out I’m all wrong.
But I AM a boss because I press send. Eventually. Too many people sit at their desks, in their lives, and don’t ever get that far. They’re eaten up with regret for not trying. At least I’m out here in the trenches. At least I’m willing to face the fear, trembling through every maneuver until it gets easier and easier.
I know my anxiety is lying to me. I won’t die from rejection. Or embarrassment. Or even panic.
But if I die without trying, what a waste of a mind that feels everything, a mind that sees through all the smoke, understands all the possibilities, breaks down all the options.
Can I celebrate the brain I have? Can I create an empire on humility and grit? Does a leader need to be fearless or do they simply refuse to let someone else write their story?
I’m anxious AND ambitious.