So here I am. Not being able to sleep again. Suddenly, risk just pops into my head.
So yeah, risk. I do take risks. For my family, it doesn’t make sense. Wait, for most people it doesn’t make sense. Like going on a hiking trip with total strangers. Or even going on a trip on my own (without them/family). Yeah.. Risk where people will talk about me because a married woman and a mother shouldn’t go on trips on her own like she’s still single. Not appropriate. I even got my mom backing me up this time. Telling my dad I have a job out of town. Ah well, I guess she does understand how I need it. Thank you, Ma.
I take risks most of the time. I’m trying to remember when I didn’t take any. Hmm.. Wait, is taking risks and being impulsive almost the same thing?
Well, I’m doing things now that I was afraid before or wanted to do a long time ago. Even if it’s not a huge thing for most people. Or even if it’s not something popular. I guess I need to give myself credit anyway, because I did those things and I brought my worries and fears along. Hey.. I took a step. I took action after action. Even if it sucked sometimes. Wobbly. Or even it seem like a mistake. But, I’m moving. I’m not just standing still.
Why did I ever listen to those who say I’m stuck? There are parts of my life I’m stuck, but not in all of them. In some ways, I’m stretching myself. May be not in a way most people would approve or in a normal way. But, what is normal?
What’s the use of comparing to people? Motivates? What a lie!! It only creates envy. Better be comparing myself to myself. How I was yesterday or even before that. Have I risked? Am I accepting and living with the consequences?
Are there any regrets? This, I’ve been questioning myself. If I feel sad, does that mean I regret it? If I feel like I’ve hurt someone else, does that mean I regret it?