In college, fear of the unknown was all too natural.

Growing up with speech issues and high sensitivity to criticism led to my hyper-awareness of anything unusual and abnormal. Yet intellectually, I knew that taking risks were the only roads to success.

Yet as I entered my twenties, I felt better in my apartment with a predictive screen in front of me. My words were all uniform in volume with everyone else. My mispronunciation disappeared reflecting on my skill of spelling. I preferred the digital wall of communication. You could find me night after night sitting in front of my computer, typing words into chat windows and blog posts.

Yet I hated that I was missing out on something. Something.

Then one day, I decided that I didn’t like what I was doing. That was the beginning of not sitting still. I decided to stop saying “no” to social events that appeared daunting and threatening. I crossed over anxiety barriers of entering rooms of people I didn’t know. And so it began nearly a decade of saying “yes” to everything. Yes to travel. Yes to three new year’s parties. Yes to five christmas parties. Yes to dinners, lunches, brunches. Yes to late nights.

Which leads me to now. I have forced myself to believe that what everyone loves should be what I love. That, traveling for days on end, is an incredible experience. That the motto carpe diem should really be mine. Yet right now, it’s my 5th week of traveling. I want to sit in my bed at the rented apartment and not move. My feet hate walking. The idea of going to a restaurant and trying to navigate the menu gives me pause (and usually new food excites me).

I just want to sit still. Watch TV and movies. Wrap myself in blankets of burritos. And write. Let myself drift to sleep.

The good thing is that I am not tired of eating ice cream. Especially gelato.