I remember every detail about that Thursday afternoon. I was 23, laying on my stomach on the beach of a gorgeous Greek island with my swimsuit top untied. I was a few years into my copywriting business, working from a laptop on a rose-covered balcony in the mornings and hanging out on the beach all afternoon — the very picture of “living the dream”.
But as I lay there on the beach, with my face resting on the sand, my eyes were open wide, staring at the shells and beach grass, every muscle in my body tensed in a decidedly not-beachy way. My breath caught in my throat. And I held myself completely, totally still, because if I thought that if I didn’t move even one muscle, then maybe the anxiety would pass me by this time. (It never did.)
Because despite apparently living in the middle of a success story, I was terrified. And I had no idea why.
The funny thing was, I knew crises. Big, life crises, like the time I graduated with a double major and honors and still couldn’t get a job. Or the time I landed in Hong Kong with about $25.00 to my name and no job.
The year I worked 10 – 12 hours every single day of every single month as I started to build my business, only giving myself the 15th and 30th off.
I was sure I could work my way through any crisis, given clear enough steps. But this was something I’d never experienced.
We just sent you an email. Please click the link in the email to confirm your subscription!
OKSubscriptions powered by Strikingly