Stepping out of your door

I am sitting here at the gate, waiting to board. This is the day I have waited for me entire life and it is finally here. Once I step foot on that plane, my life will never be the same. It is the fulfillment of my childhood dream.

I am going to the United Kingdom.

As a recent survivor of a quarter-life crisis, I know that one of the most important things you can do for yourself is to live. For the longest time, I was just existing, allowing other people and life to direct me hither and thither like a dandelion fuzz in the wind. Yes, Katy Perry, I do know what it feels like to be a plastic bag.

This trip is more than just a vacation. As cliche as it is, I do feel a little like I am going to find myself. It's not that I don't know who I am, but I lost a little bit of what makes me, me.

I used to be vivacious and fearless, but at some point in my adolescence I began to doubt myself and anxiety and fear took deep root. Along the way, that lively little girl let go of my hand and left me like a parent with a missing child at Wal-Mart. One moment she was there, and the next, gone. Part of me feels like she went to the Land of Make Believe far away to have adventures.

So this is me--clutching my passport for dear life hoping beyond hope that my fearlessness is somewhere on the other side. And know, dear Readers, that I will let you know when I find her.

See you in London.