When Ash and I first booked my plane tickets to Costa Rica six months ago, I was ecstatic, (obviously.)
I had very clear visions of deliciously tan cabana boys, bottles of Bacardi, streaming sunshine, and Future Jessica.
The low-down? Future Jessica is someone who has mastered the fine art of wearing white pants without somehow spilling blue Kool-Aid on the crotch, (primarily because Future Jessica only drinks mimosas made with champagne and green smoothies). Future Jessica is able to juggle tiny puggle puppies, invent a language that’s an alluring blend of French and German, walk with the perfect sway in her hips, and lets out ladylike laughs that are more gentle tinkling of a wind chime made of wine glasses and less barking outbursts reminiscent of a foghorn.
But when my departure date FINALLY ARRIVED, I woke up with my face glued to my pillow from borderline obscene amounts of drool. I had a new zit on my chin, a deep early morning craving for french fries dipped in hot sauce, and a penchant for sneezing so hard I fart a little.
As I stumbled my way through the Denver airport, shaking cranberry muffin crumbs out of my bra and making overly-long eye contact with any vaguely attractive bearded man, (because mother, may I?!) I realized that the pristine, perfect, always powered and constantly composed Future Jessica? Has never, and will never exist.
And that’s pretty fucking freeing if you think about it.
We’ll never be perfectly prepped for international adventures.
We’ll never feel totally ready for “monumental” relationship milestones.
We’ll never be 100% completely convinced that we can pull off those big business moves.
But you don’t have to feel fearless to jump in hairy feet first. (Note: I totally shave my big toe sometimes, just for the record.)
How many times have you bobbled on the brink of something and decided not to go balls deep because you didn’t feel ready? Didn’t feel capable? Didn’t feel like that magical future version of yourself who would be unrelenting ready to go, confidently chomping at the bit and poised to pounce?
(Answer: At least 13.)
Don’t shrink away from an exciting endeavor because thinking about it shoves swarms of twitterpated butterflies into your belly. (Though if you barfed, would bugs fly out?! SOMEONE CALL BILL NYE.)
You’ll never really be ready.
You’ll never be completely convinced you can come out ahead.
You’ll never be a rad robot incapable of failure.
But you can always be someone who smacks excuses square on the ass, french kisses fear–assuming fear has a beautiful beard–and dives in, (preferably whilst wearing a funny hat.)
Stop waiting for the perfect moment.
Instead, make opportunities your prison bitch and decide to be The One Who Did.
What could you accomplish if you chose to act right the hell now? Tell me in the comments, because I am super nosy want to hear about YOU.