The room fills up with people. Most of them around my age, some older than me. Students. From different countries. Giggling and talking to each other. And I am the only one sitting down. Trying to look like I am doing something important scrolling through my phone, when in fact I am looking around to all those people. My hands are shaking. My stomach twists. I stand up, walk out of the hall, behind the corner and start to run away.
I am a writer. I have been talking publicly so many times. performed for thousands of people, had media interviews since early age, amazing job opportunities... I have survived sicknesses, faced death many times. I have moved around, been alone and traveled the world... And if I would get a dollar every time someone calls me fearless, I would probably be able to travel to all the 10 countries we just wrote about in our last post. That's how much I hear it. Not bragging here - believe it or not - I don't always find it that positive, even though it is meant to be a nice complement. But it definitely is not true. I am not fearless. I am far from being fearless. I get scared. I have been scared so many times. I have feared through it all.
"Oh, I think it is so fearless to travel alone all the way to Africa! I mean it is super dangerous right!? Are you not scared to walk around?"
"Wow! You have published three books? Nobody dears to do that in your age!"
"Oh you just don't fear to jump into a plane and move to another country just like that!"
"But where you not scared of dying when you got the seizures from dengue fever? That's why I don't dear to go outside Europe!"
Yeah.. I kind of get where they are coming from. It seems definitely fearless. But the coin has its flip side. Maybe I have not been scared of dying, or putting my books out there. Maybe walking around the poor suburbs in Africa or Asia in the middle of the night or switching planes on foreign airports doesn't scare me. But I am scared of other things. I think there is noting as stressful as driving around with a Helsinki city bus - or the other buses that take you from Helsinki to another city in Finland. I mean, what comes to planes, you usually don't step into a wrong one accidentally or get off too early/late. But stepping out on a wrong bus stop makes my hands shake like craaaazy. So I rather travel with three different planes than two different buses.. And maybe I am not scared of talking in a TV interview but oh if you take me in front of my class.. I will be red and can't get a word out of my mouth. Maybe I didn't seem to be scared to move to Africa or America, but I for sure was scared to come back. Or to let everyone else stay. And yet today I am scared that I will never fit in again as everyone has continued living when I was gone. Maybe I didn't fear the dark suburbs in Zimbabwe or Cambodia, but I for sure can start crying if I missed a turn on a dark highway in Finland. And I am not scared of dengue fever or other illnesses I may catch outside Europe. But oh boy did I cry when they pulled out my wisdom tooth... So it's not that simple.
I would much rather just be brave. Fearless doesn't fit me. It doesn't leave room for fear. Brave - on the other hand - means that you overcome your fears and doubts.
Change is inevitable. The only thing that is sure is that nothing is sure. You know there are those moments in your life when you have to turn the page. One chapter ends and another one begins. There is no going back. No reversing. Nothing will be the same ever again. And then there are days when you finish one book. And start a another one. That's when you totally let go of knowing what will happen next. You have absolutely no idea, all your plans and scenarios can be trashed in seconds.
On Tuesday I kissed my army-green boyfriend a goodbye for the last time. I will probably (hopefully) never see him again in those clothes. I will never visit him on the navy base. I kissed him and told that he is very brave - with 165 days behind him he is braver than I ever thought he would be. And then I drove through the dark base and watched the gates to close behind me for the last time now. Because tomorrow - or in 12 hours. At 1:30 pm he will be released from the service of the Finnish army. A chapter in our lives will be over. And a week after that we will be in a plane to Indonesia. And two weeks after coming back from our trip my job contract is supposed to end. And after that? I don't know. I couldn't know. We made plans about travelling for a few months but with all the school applications and my medical treatments it may not be possible. We were planing on moving to a another city. But that won't be happening if we don't get into our schools. And I mean, anything can happen. So no, I can't plan for more than a couple of weeks. It's a whole new book coming up.
What I know is that my boyfriend will be finally home. We will come back to a same address every night for a few months now. I moved out of my apartment and he from his house. One chapter has ended. And maybe that's "stupid" to move so quickly, or so I have heard (since we haven't dated for a year yet and known for only a little over a year). And I am not fearless. I am scared. But being scared is not a sign of failure or a sign of weakness. It's being human.
I stood up on that scene in that seminar crowded with the students. I stood there my hands shaking, my cheeks all red and my voice breaking as I tried to speak. I looked down and wished I was one of the students trying to learn about working in a media house, not standing up there and trying to mumble about my experiences and my job - how to be fearless and succeed. And the only question or word I could come up with was "wazzup?" I think latest in that point everyone saw that I was terrified. Not that I wouldn't have talked to many many more people in many meetings before, but standing in front of those students I thought they would hate me. But I got smiles and answers. "AWESOME!" the crowd answered. They backed my up. They saw I wasn't fearless, I was scared. I was human. But I kept standing there, talking. And slowly it became easier. The crowd had fun and plenty people came afterwards to tell me I was very brave to do that! Oh, how good did that feel!
So no, I am not fearlessly just making all the big changes, finishing books and changing my story. Because change is always scary. But we can either run from it or stand there, shaky and terrified. Doing things that scare us, being brave the best we can and learn from it. At least for each other. And I know it won't be easy. It will be scary. But I will be brave for us.
Welcome home sweetheart!
- Linnea