I don't really consider myself a chance-taking girl. I like routine. If my routine is messed up, I sort of crumble apart. I'm not very spontaneous, usually, because of the aforementioned heart for routine. The routine keeps all of my emotional baggage, history, and mental weirdness in check. If I deviate from the routine, I don't know how to get back to it; and then, I freak out.
But lately, I've been taking chances all over the place.
In October, I took a huge chance by asking my husband if I could have his blessing to return to the local D/s scene despite the fact that he emphatically told me he didn't want to do so himself. With his blessing, I took another chance and jumped back into the scene and went to a party. I cried a lot at that party, but I went. I did it.
Another chance has come my way, and I'm not really ready to share it. It could be such a good thing for me, and I really want it to work out. I'm afraid if I talk about it, I'll jinx it. Suffice it to say that over the past month, I have been making preparations for a big chance that is coming up this Friday. This is the sort of thing I didn't think I'd ever be capable of doing, but I'm doing it. I'm TRUSTING - and that is the big issue. I am trusting people outside of my core support group.
I even did it at the last party! I trusted someone new, and I went to a new place. I expanded my horizons; and all I had to do was to agree with the question I was asked. "Do you want to do this?" Well, sure! And it was amazing, and wonderful, and lovely, and I hope they ask again.
So, here I am taking chances all over the place, learning new things about the world and myself, expanding my notion of trust, and, I think, sloughing off a little bit of the fear of abandonment.......because I am ok by myself. I am enough on my own.
I'm good enough. I'm strong enough. And god dammit, people like me.