The risky side of risk taking

Our 2 month "anniversary" of living in London came and went a couple weeks ago but I never documented it. I've been debating on how I want to approach this month's reflection.

Moving to London was a huge risk for Sean and I. It's nice to dress it up in words like opportunity, potential, excitement, adventure...but when you take away the glitz and glamour of it all, it was a risk pure and simple.

We sold our cars. We sold our furniture. I quit my job. and expats we became.

We told ourselves the risk was worthwhile, continuously striving towards the inevitably amazing reward that was sure to come from all this risky business. We patted ourselves proudly on the back for making such a courageous life decision and spouted off lines from Robert Frost about taking "the road less traveled". We scoffed and deflected the "conventional" stepping stones of college, marriage, house, baby. We knew we'd get to it eventually so why rush it?

and yet, here we are, almost 3 months into this adventure and it is not the picture Sean and I painted for ourselves. Recently, we've faced some really major setbacks here...the kind that grip you in your gut and make you lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling in an absolute panic about the future.

We are doing our best to maintain a state of calm in the midst of this life chaos that is currently happening to us. Sure the red wine intake has certainly stepped up a bit, but we are doing our best not to let it overtake us (the stress, I mean, not the wine. I'll always let a little wine overtake me)

It is hard when we are feeling this way, for me to not get caught up in the comparison game. Logging onto Facebook becomes dangerous territory as every newsfeed brings announcements of houses bought, babies born, milestones accomplished. It amplifies our problems and the life choices we've made and is like a siren screaming out: YOU SCREWED UP.

But this is the gamble we took. This is where the risk of risk-taking really lies. Whenever you take these chances, failure is a possibility. You hope it won't be, you make every effort to avoid it, but sometimes it just happens. The question then becomes: What will you do about it? We rolled the dice and so far, we've lost...but all we can do at this point is cut our losses and move forward. We need to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and look towards a brighter day. (I'm pretty sure I mixed a few metaphors there, but you get the point)

We can't compare ourselves to our friends. We aren't them. We are us. and it is as simple as that.

and I will continue to tell myself that over and over and over again, until I start to feel better. I will remind myself that everything happens for a reason, that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor...you know, all of life's important lessons.

The greatest challenges are still ahead of us. We are United States bound in 9 days, which will provide the battery recharge we so desperately need, but after that it is back to London. Our adventure here isn't over and even if our reasons for coming aren't as exciting anymore and the picture we painted as been tarnished and faded, I refuse to spend the next 7 months sulking.

We may be down, but we're not out yet. Not to mention, I have Kate's wedding in April to attend. Someone told me that she's not allowed to have a bridal party, which is probably why I never got the phone call to be her Maid of Honor, but I know my invitation is in the mail.