Laura-Jane in a Whimfield field

When we decided to move across the country, I was prepared for a lot of negatives. I didn’t know what to expect. I was afraid of the cold. We were leaving our families behind.

Oh, I knew there’d be positives, too. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it! But one positive that I hadn’t given much thought to was being able to reinvent myself. Being able to shed all of those vestiges of teenage-hood.

I grew up in a small town. I’d had my fair share of popularity as an early teenager, which led me to high-school. In high-school, I found my social status slip from popular, to sort of popular, to “loser”, and, finally, to outcast. But I hadn’t thought that I’d adopted these statuses myself. I hadn’t felt like a “loser.” I hadn’t felt that “weird.” I’d thought I was pretty happy with myself and who I was. Even during high school, I tried to convince myself that I was above all that.

After graduation, I moved to a larger city and left my small town up-bringing behind. I asserted myself. I felt good about who I’d become.

But occasionally, I’d encounter someone from high school. Immediately, I’d revert back to who I used to be. I was someone that no one thought to stop and invite to…anything. I was someone that no one bothered to consider.

So when I’d encounter someone from high school, I’d walk in the other direction with averted eyes.

I thought I’d put it all behind me. But chance encounters with people who saw me as less than what I really was put me right back in that place–back in high school all over again.

Being here, in a new province 6000 kilometres away from all of that, has let me shed those feelings for good. I realize that I was afraid of failure. I was afraid to prove those people right. I was afraid that I was going to realize that they were right.

Sometimes I don’t realize how something was affecting me until I’m through it and on the other side.

I’m not an escapist. I didn’t leave to escape my past. But when I did leave, I shed all those old expectations and statuses that didn’t fit. I’m not sure exactly what it is. Maybe it’s just a part of growing up. Whatever the cause, I’m coming into my own. I’m no longer afraid to fail. I could yodel my dreams from a hilltop with no hesitation. I no longer care who might see me, defeated, chasing down broken dreams all over a hill-side. What do other peoples’ opinions have to do with me?

I’m taking risks. I’m taking more risks than I ever thought I would. I might succeed and I might fail. But I don’t care. I’m giving it my all, and it sure feels good.