Because it’s annoying and you’re underestimating yourself.
“I’m so jealous!”
No. No you’re not. At least, you shouldn’t be.
You can be exactly where I am. I’m nothing special. All I did was actually do it. And when I say “it” I mean quit a cushy job, sold everything I owned, took out a healthy loan for my new home, and started dragging it across the country with a 2009 Jeep and no plan.
It’s ironic I should be the one talking about doing anything at all. I who have thought of myself as a writer for nearly a decade yet just started pursuing it professionally a mere month ago. Ironic I’ve been paralyzed by a language I’ve known for the better part of 28 years but have put off using because it’s “too hard.” Yet giving up what most people would consider everything to become what those same people would consider homeless—that felt easy in comparison.
Honestly, “it” is just me quite literally running away from things that are hard to face.
Know I want to write and not pursuing it because of paralyzing fear weaved from nothing is hard to face. The expectations of myself that I project onto friends and family are hard to face. Thinking “I could do that!” then feeling like shit for never pursuing it is hard to face. The tens of emotions and lengthy essays swirling around my head so fast I can’t keep up are hard to face. Habitual unfinished projects and broken promises are hard to face. Feeling a complete lack of talent and passion —whatever that means—is hard to face. The pressure of perfection and the weight of a mountain of writers I should be better than and topics I don’t feel qualified to write about are all hard to face.
Next time you’re jealous of what you perceive someone’s life to be—revisit this.
In this moment, I feel good that I’ve started. And scared knowing I’ll have to keep starting every day. It’s hard to face, but there you have “it.”