At the end of a recent issue, I wrote: “It’s hard because it’s easy.” But what does that even mean?

 

As counterintuitive as it sounds, we want big things to be harder than they actually are. When I say “big things,” I mean point-of-no-return decisions and life-altering choices. Those moments where your breath catches and the world stops. You can feel it. You’ve tasted the truth. You’ve let it slide across your tongue with terrifying ease, and there's no going back.

 

 

As an inherently lazy person who considers “being a potato” a viable lifestyle choice, I resisted this for years. Why would I ever purposefully want things to be hard in my life? But years of emotional (and literal) complacency — of easy living — only created confusion, heartbreak, and the excruciating restlessness that comes from watching others find true emotional fulfillment. I couldn’t take it anymore. Something had to change.

 

So, one bright summer day last year, I decided to apply the spirit of one of my favorite quotes from Ernest Hemingway (which is actually advice for getting over writer’s block) to my life:

 

 

I followed these instructions literally. I would bring a person or a situation to mind, and then I would challenge myself to say out loud one true sentence about that person or situation. The truest sentence I knew.

 

At first, it felt so uncomfortable, sometimes to the point of physical pain. Not because I couldn’t think of whatever that truthful sentence might be. I was simply afraid of what life would look like on the other side once I said it out loud. Because what typically follows truth is unflinching clarity of what your next steps must be.

 

Eventually, though, that one true sentence would slip out from between my lips in a whisper:

 

 

 

 

Saying the truth was so easy, because I realized my body had been saying it silently over and over for days, weeks, months, or years. It was etched all over my heart and soul, but I had willfully turned a blind eye to it. This was merely the first time I was brave enough to give it oxygen.

 

Of course, I’ve occasionally caught myself saying things that I want to be the truth at first. Almost immediately, my body would scream at me: “You’re full of shit, and you know it. You want that to be the truth, because it’s safe. Try again.”

 

There have also been times where the truth made me fucking furious. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way! Why can’t I just feel differently? Why do I have to want this? Why do I have to love him? What is wrong with me?!”

 

Then, after my temper tantrum, I always get to work. Why? Sitting with uncomfortable feelings sucks. Doing what needs to be done can be scary. But living with regret is so much worse.

 

I’m done wasting my time, or anyone else’s for that matter. I don’t want someone to ever question my presence, my love, or my loyalty. If I'm here with you, it’s because I have chosen to be with my whole heart. Just last week, I had to admit an unfun truth. "He's not 'the guy.' If I say 'yes' to him now, I will have to say 'no' the right guy for me later on."

 

My life is like a house. I've worked tirelessly over the past 18 months to strip it down to the studs. To rip out everything that was wrong from the root. But the slashing and burning is over. I didn’t do this painful, bloody work so I could continue to settle or live in an empty house. I did it so I could rebuild it with purpose. So I can fill my life with the people and the love and the work that are meant for me.

 

I did all of this so I can finally live and feel alive. I'm so tired of living a life full of maybes and "what could have beens." Aren't you?

 

If you are, your first step is admitting there is safety in believing your situation is too hard or complicated to solve, so you can justify your inaction, your continued mulling over of the facts in perpetuity.

 

Admit you sometimes prefer your own little mental waiting room before you commit to a decision. Where you still believe you have the luxury of time to ponder all possibilities. None of this makes you a bad person. You're just a human being who don't want to hurt anyone or get hurt yourself. Unfortunately, your waiting room will kill you if you stay in it for too long.

 

Running from the truth is exhausting, and hiding from the truth forever is impossible. So, stop running. Again, it’s hard because it’s easy. Just this once, let it be easy. Breathe. Let the truth out. Everything you're dreaming of is on the other side of saying those words.