So, this is another one that could be a bit touchy. Go easy.
In my life, throughout whatever foolish, extraordinary or generally improbable things that I’ve suffered and/or accomplished, I’ve always felt like I’ve been able to reset things if I didn’t like how they were going.
For example, when I was floundering in “school” in Brenham, TX, I simply bailed on the whole business and moved to a schooner in Baltimore for a couple years. Or when I was stuck in a terrible relationship, I simply severed all ties and went snowboarding, rock climbing, lake sailing, backpacking through Europe, etc. for a year to get my head straight. Or when I was about to be evicted from my townhouse in Logan (primarily due to the idiocy of my roommate), I simply packed up and left in the middle of the night, leaving a note that laughingly dared the leasing company to come find me.
Auto loans, lease agreements, bad jobs/bosses, clingy girls, homelessness, police involvement… All were a chance to perform yet another of my great escapes, after which I’d pause to “ta-da!” and leave the world wondering how in the hell I just pulled it off. (For a more recent example of this, see my debt-defying boat sale maneuver.)
I’ve never feared doing whatever the hell I want, because I’m wholly confident that I can always undo it on the other side if I decide I don’t like it. Even things like my mortgage, or my marriage, could be undone. (I most certainly don’t want them to, but the simple fact is that they could be.) And this feeling has been my propellent. It’s the thing that’s pushed me into all the random and unlikely feats that have made me the guy I know and love.
But this? Having a child?
This is the very first thing in my life that I can’t escape. The first thing I can’t make disappear in a cloud of laughter (or tears), and tire smoke.
The first thing that I can’t undo.
And, right now anyway, I think that’s what frightens me the most about it.