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My alarm is set for five hours and ten minutes from now. My day will start very early tomorrow. I will drive for several hours and then view several homes over the course of three hours and three towns. I hope to be asleep soon.

There is a part of me that wants to apologize for being worried, for feeling a bit freaked out and off-kilter. I almost wish that I could at least pretend to be only excited. I want, not only to lie, but to sell the lie to others. I don’t know why. I don’t know how I think this would make me better or more likeable.

The truth is, I feel shaky. I want to curl into a tight little ball, cry, and ignore the world for a day. Or two. Or seventeen. I am scared and unsure of myself. I am not certain how this will all work out and I really, really, really want to be certain. I want to know the things that are impossible to know. I don’t want to have to depend on trust. And, it would seem (as a very dear and wise friend pointed out this evening) that this is the very thing I am in the process of building.

I am learning that I am trustworthy. I want to know this. Ultimately, I want to know this. So, I may just have to get okay with feeling awkward for a time. Like a baby taking her first few steps.  I hate the awkwardness. I judge myself horribly for it. I tell myself it’s not okay to say one more time how frightened I am. I tell myself to feel something else, and if I can’t do that, to at least hide how I do feel. I tell myself to lie.

It’s ridiculous.

So, the truth is, I’m still scared. Still worried. Still anxious. Still feeling overwhelmed. Still doubtful. Still hopeful. Still proud. Still strong. Still brave. Still wonderful.

And, I’m still going. I’m packing all of it in the car with me and heading out in the morning. Part of me can’t wait.