Coming to you poolside from Mexico this week. Feel like a ton has happened since I saw you last, actually.
Paris last weekend with Chels, and we did some street performing under the Eiffel Tower. (Lost €1,87 due to having to buy the hat, but oh well. Businesses fail all the time.)
Then it was my birthday a week ago, meaning I'm now officially a ~28~ year old person.
And now I'm here, in Cabo, surrounded by family and sunscreen.
So, please, feel my sunshine vibes through the computer and soak them in as needed.
I want to share something with you that's been sinking in over the last week or so.
To set the scene: I was in a Scottish pub in Paris last Friday, meeting an old high school friend for a drink.
We befriended the (also Scottish) bachelorette party at the next table over, and the gay BFF of the group took a shining to me.
Drunkenly and out of context, he turned to me in a thick Glaswegian accent and said, "Don't worry, sweetie. What is for you will not pass you by. You know that, right?"
He then spilled his double-vodka-coke on me.
What is for you will not pass you by.
What if you walked into any interview, for any job you wanted, and believed that it was meant for you?
See, I've never been very good at thinking I deserved things.
I believe that I'm capable, for sure, but not that something should by default be mine.
And what I'm discovering is that I'm probably not doing myself any favors with that particular line of thought.
So, from here on out, I'm attempting to channel my inner Scottish bachelorette party.
The way I see it is this:
It's kinda like walking across a tightrope.
In order to safely get to the other side, you first have to believe you will not fall.
You first have to be confident you will make it.
What is for you will not pass you by, friend.
Rooting for you.