Once upon a time, I used to be fearless. If someone warned me about riding a particular horse, because it was bad-tempered, hadn’t been ridden for years, and had already broken someone’s collar-bone, I’d feel compelled to get on its back (with owner’s permission, of course}. I rarely felt any fear for my own safety. I’d happily go alone into dangerous parts of cities, I’d talk to strangers, and far worse. I was willing to take a risk because I felt protected by some force greater than myself.
Until I got pregnant.
Everything changed after that. I became chicken. I became cautious and sensible, and well… boring. Someone needed me. They needed me to be healthy and present and reliable. And so I stopped taking risks. I pulled in the edges of my comfort zone and settled in for the long haul. My plan was to wait until my son celebrated his 21st birthday, and then I’d be fearless again.
But I won a trip to Vietnam recently. Before my son turned 21. In fact, I’m heading off next Friday. He’s not even a teenager yet. What if something happens to me? What if I forget to look both ways? Or eat something lethal? Or….? Or….? Or the plane crashes? What will my son do without his mum?
I’m excited and scared. I’m sure the same forces that protected me before child, will look after me now. Perhaps I’ll learn to be brave and sensible at the same time. I wonder if that’s possible?
Anyone been to Vietnam? Any tips on crossing the roads? Perhaps I’ll just stick to one side…
Who feels brave? Who feels like a scaredy cat?