In my last Weekend Coffee Share post, I wrote about the wind of change and this nagging feeling a big change was coming my way. Back then, I thought it was meant to be this job I had interviewed for. I thought I was finally going to become a full-time Junior Designer. But now I realise the universe was lining up something much bigger for me.
I we were having coffee this morning, I would tell you, with a slight quiver in my voice, “I’m moving to Paris!”. I would tell you that I have a set date and that on February 23, I will be climbing on the Eurostar and gliding along to Paris, “La Ville Lumière”. I would struggle to find the right words to explain my feelings right now. “Excited” would feature, of course, but the truth is, it is a lot more complex than that.
Two days ago, I was asked to voice the two conflicting voices hashing things out in my head. There was the wise voice, and then there was the other voice, the little voice inside our heads, the one we’ve all tried to silence at some point in our lives – the bully.
The wise voice sounded like this:
This is all for the best. England taught you a lot. You grew immensely in those 6 years and counting. You lived the London experience and will have endless stories to tell. You found your first love and nurtured a 5-year relationship. You made friends for life. You travelled all throughout the country and saw so much of what it has to offer. You perfected your English to such level can now teach it as a foreign language. England was a success.
The bully sounded more like this:
England was a failure. You got a degree in interior architecture and no job out of it. You were financially independent for about 6 months in total, the rest was never quite enough. You’re 25 and still no prospect of a career. Your social life failed. Your relationship failed. What’s to say you will find the right job in Paris? What’s to say you won’t end up miserable, unemployed and alone? You’re leaving because you failed.
This was a tough exercise. I heard the atrocities other me is capable of and they sounded just like the words a bully might utter. An unnecessarily evil, emotionally detached, self-sabotaging bully. And now that I’ve put those words down on paper, they appear even more tainted.
I’m telling you all this because I’m not the only one. The wise and the bully exist within all of us and our thoughts can help tip the scales against the bully and in favour of the wise. And I guess that’s what I’m doing today.