To the places we leave behind. 
 

Lately at work, I’ve been feeling like I’m in this small box. A box that once was able to contain a piece of me—very comfortably, very safely. But now, I feel that the box is getting smaller. And I don’t have the room to stretch my arms, to extend my legs.

And sometimes, I find it hard to breathe.

Or sometimes, after I come back from travel, I feel that I’m in this small bubble. And all I know about my life is contained within this bubble. But I know the world is much bigger than that. And as long as I continue to work at Michelin, then I will always be in this bubble.

And I’ve had this feeling for a while now.

So last Friday, I did something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time: I handed in my resignation. I had to give four weeks’ notice before I officially quit. So that was my first official step in doing so.

And the feeling?

Excitement.

And I think a big part of this excitement comes from knowing that I am free now. That I will be untethered from these chains. And though safe, and secure, and comfortable, they have limited my growth for a while now.

And now?

I’m free to spread my wings,

to go to places,

to do the things I’ve always wanted to do.

I’ve got my eyes set on becoming a personal trainer on a cruise ship—going back to my personal training roots. Coaching. Helping others. Staying connected to people. And although the path ahead is a long way off, I’m building these planks on this metaphoric bridge to get there.

And I trust myself to be able to do it.

Sure enough, management pulled me aside to discuss my departure. And to my surprise, they wanted to create a new position for me—a part-time position—to keep me in the company for as long as possible.

And after considering it over the weekend, I decided not to take the generous offer.

Because it meant that a part of me would still be bound to Michelin.

I wouldn’t be fully untethered.

So this is me—

opening my hands,

falling backward into the unknown,

trusting that a future version of myself will catch me mid-fall and say,

everything will be alright.