“Ahhhh man,” he said as he leaned in to kiss me. “I wish you weren’t leaving tonight.” I smiled as I stared back into the bright sparkle of his crystal blue eyes. I genuinely meant it when I responded with a, “Me too.” It’s not that I was going to miss him. We had only spent the day kiting together—which actually means my kite and I almost crashing into the mangroves and he actually kiting through the surf— but it had been incredibly fun. It had been an incredibly fun week in total; spending all of my four days off in Florida, instead of choosing to commute to Los Angeles. I also experienced the brilliant luck of not getting called on standby, which resulted in an eight day stretch of no airplane, no uniform, and no red eye. It felt like heaven. It felt like a heaven I could like living in for a little while longer.
In my heart I want to stay and not just stay for today or tomorrow or until my days off run out, but like, really, legitimately (for me) stay. I want to quit being a flight attendant. I love my job, but I know I must leave soon. I love you, but I’m leaving…
Being a flight attendant is great fun; it’s been THE best fun. It’s so fantastic. I love being me and living this life. I am constantly filled with awe, wonder, excitement and appreciation. I could stay and be happy, but I want to go and be happy somewhere else. I want to do something else.
I’m still doing this cabin crew thing, being here, and living flight attendant life, because it’s easy, fun, and I’m good at it. It’s my comfort zone. I’m currently writing this in Copenhagen. Tomorrow I’ll be in Los Angeles and a few days from now, I’ll be waving hello to Stockholm. It’s crazy good and crazy amazing. My job doesn’t give me a lot of money, but it does give me easy money. The way that I work to earn a living brings with it stresses that I can handle. Stresses that I am accustomed to handling. Jet lag, weight gain, bad skin, distant relationships, sickness, living out of hotels, commuting, goodbyes…
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I get tired of these stresses, but haven’t really cared to face the stresses of another type of work. As individuals, we get used to the way things are and changing that takes a monumental amount of courage, faith, vision, belief, and hope. Do I have that? I wonder. Do I have enough courage to jump into that new thing I would like to try? Do I have the faith that it will work out, the vision to see it through, and belief that I can do it? Do I have an unending amount of hope that it will be ok in the beginning, middle, or end no matter how good or bad it gets?
Can I do that thing that I am dreaming about?
My breath catches, because I want it. Almost. Kinda. Pretty much want it. But, do I want it enough to give up the job that I love for the dream that I might love? For the dream that might be really fucking hard at times? For the dream that actually could be a nightmare? I mean, that’s always a possibility. You can’t get what you want in life if you aren’t willing to risk. I can’t get to the place that I dream if I don’t let go. It’s easy to give up a job you hate. It’s much more close to impossible to leave a job you love.
I won’t live abroad unless I move abroad.
I won’t become a kiteboarder unless I kite.
I won’t learn Spanish unless I study.
I won’t make a full-time income writing unless I write full-time.
I won’t know if I can do it unless I actually try to do it. Like 100 percent, heart-and-soul, do it.
You won’t either. You won’t get to where you want if you don’t do what is required to get there. You won’t become a flight attendant, get your dream job, or change your life if you don’t take that first step, commit to the second, and invest along the way. Which is fine for both you and I if we are ok with that being fine. If that works for us. I can’t see that working for me. I want things in my life that will require sacrifices. I originally titled this torn, but torn is not the right description. Torn is how my heart feels when faced with the realization that I am in a season of transition; a season of beautiful, vibrant, and exciting change. Torn is how I feel knowing that my season of flying will be coming to a close; that I now have a timeline. Torn is often how it feels when you breakup with someone you love. Sometimes you can’t even explain why you need to breakup, you just know you need to. Breakups often have shitty explanations, can be full of regrets, or eventually result in finding the love you always imagined.
My job and I are heading for a breakup.
I’m in Copenhagen right now. It’s bright and blue and brisk with the beginning of spring. Everything is bubbling with life and excitement. It wasn’t like this a month ago. There was so much winter in sight. That month ago was beautiful, just like this day of ‘almost summer’ is beautiful. One isn’t worse or better than the other. It’s simply different.
I’ll cry when this is done; this relationship. I’m a crier you know. I’ll miss so much about my flight attendant life, but I want different. I love you, but I’m leaving. It’s time to go and do and dream differently. There’s a sense of freedom in all of this. I’m excited, bubbling with energy, and smiling in gratefulness that I have a chance for a new season.
Don’t even bother telling me not to quit or what to do. You do you, and I’ll do me, and let’s see who and where and what we fall in love with next…
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