When I was a little girl, I would dress up in my mother’s pencil skirt, her blazer jacket, beaded jewelry, and oversized heels. I would attempt to walk around in her heels and pretend to run a business. Since it was the 80’s, I piled on the bright red lipstick and blue eye shadow. I would pull up my hair in a makeshift French twist and imagine I was a successful, independent businesswoman. I never knew what business I ran, but I relished in the thought of being in charge and on my own. Over the years, the fantasy of wearing business suits and seeking success has never left, but at some point the idea of being on my own has evolved into an insecure fear being alone. I can’t pin point when this fear began, but I’m pretty sure it developed slowly over time.

My new venture to Tokyo will bring me face to face with the fantasy and the fear. Tokyo brings the opportunity of personal success. And yes, my uniform consists of a pencil skirt, a blazer jacket and heels, only this time my clothes will actually fit! I may even throw my hair into a French twist for kicks, but the red lipstick is only for a night on the town. The blue eye shadow? That can stay in the 80’s.  In parallel with the excitement of a living in a foreign country, is the fear of being alone. As the date of my leaving Seattle approaches, the fear becomes stronger.

This past year has been emotionally the toughest year of my life, so far.  I’m slowly learning more about myself, while accepting there is much more to discover. One thing I’ve realized is I dive into intimate relationships head first with it ending in me feeling depleted.  I give too much of myself to another. I believe this stems from my fear of being alone. When I stop to process my feelings, which is painfully too often, my heart actually hurts.   These feelings were the catalyst for me to create a situation where I would need to depend solely on myself. This is why no matter how frightened I am; I refuse to waver in my decision to move to Tokyo for a year. If I can go to a country, not knowing the language, work at a job I have no experience in, and live on my own without the crutch of friends or a relationship, then I can do anything.

In a conversation with my best friend’s husband, Julien, I asked, “Can you just remind me why going to Tokyo is a good idea? I need to hear WHY!” His opinion means a lot to me, because he has traveled abroad more than anyone I know and is a French native who has successfully created a life in the U.S. without the help of anyone. He responded, saying. “When you live abroad for an extended period of time, it forces you to figure out what is really important to you. It changes you in only a good way. There is no way going to Tokyo can be a mistake!” My best friend, Kris, nodded in approval saying, “You need to do this! I am so proud of you.” Those few words comforted me. Their confidence in me helped me feel strength. My anxiety still exists, but I keep repeating what Julien and Kris said as a mantra for my adventures to come.

From here on out, it is crunch time. I can start by closing one chapter and begin writing another in a journey to find inner strength. I need to challenge the cycle of thoughts I have that being alone is bad. I will leave my bruised heart in Seattle, and with my business suit pressed and fitted, I can welcome Tokyo and the adventures that lie ahead with open arms.