this is a story about trust.

Two and a half years ago, I posted this:


I was new to Providence, about to interview for a job I really wanted, and I decided I didn't want to be nervous. I decided that whatever was meant to happen would happen, whether I worried about it or not. I didn't care whether or not they'd approve of my nose ring, if they'd see my tattoo poking out from beneath my sleeve, if I'd speak eloquently enough. 

I let it all go. And as I walked from my car to the office, over the East Side's beautiful cobblestone sidewalks, I looked down and snapped this picture. And decided to choose trust.

Turns out I'd get the job, they'd really love me, and I'd stay there for two and a half years. My promise to myself was to stay for at least one, so I saw it as an accomplishment. It was a great job that taught me a lot (and gave me really wonderful benefits).

But eventually I'd need to move on, and choose trust again. 

Over and over, I've needed to choose trust. Which is sometimes really hard to do. Like, really hard to do.

I'd chosen trust when I decided to spend a lot of money on a certification course to teach English abroad last year. I'd chosen trust when I had to student teach all summer while also suffering through a bad case of bronchitis. I'd chosen trust when I applied for jobs in Vietnam and had Skype interviews late at night. I'd chosen trust when I said no to a position in the hopes of holding out for a better one. I'd chosen trust when I sent a pre-service agreement to a school in Vietnam, where I'd never even visited. I'd chosen trust when I put in my notice at work, right after receiving a raise. I'd chosen trust when I told my partner that I would indeed go, alone, after all these months of being unsure. I'd chosen trust when we decided to break up (heart-breakingly), three weeks before I was to leave. I'd chosen trust on my last day of work, riding home in the backseat of an Uber piled high with gifts and stuff from my desk, wanting to throw up from a mixture of excitement and fear. I'd chosen trust when I woke up that first Monday morning, not at work, an entire free day laid out before me.

When I look back on my life, I can see how everything makes sense. Funny how time can do that -- how we can look back and see things so clearly, how we didn't know it at the time but that everything would fall into place. It's just that in the moment that can be so hard to see. And trust.

I'm experiencing more transition right now than I perhaps ever have in my whole life -- so many endings that I'm just trying to keep my head above water. I've never moved to another country before. No one in my family has, either. I've also never had one of those breakups that you only see in movies, where you don't want to get out of bed and can't eat or sleep. I've never had two and a half weeks off from work, freedom. I've never done any of this before. This is uncharted territory. 

Yet there's a knowing. A knowing that this is my next step in life. That it will all work out. That this feels solid and deep in my gut, despite the upheaval and heartbreak. I am holding onto that.

And over and over again, I am choosing trust.