First Steps Suck

THOUGHTS OUTSIDE THE OFFICE

There are a lot of inspirational quotes about first steps. I assume they were written by people who had never actually had to take one, because first steps are awful. They are awkward and uncertain and usually accompanied by the very strong suspicion that maybe you have completely lost your mind.

There is the first date after you have been left. Not even necessarily because you are ready to date. Sometimes you are just trying to figure out whether you still know how to sit across from another adult and make conversation without accidentally turning dinner into a deposition. You get dressed, change clothes four times, stare at yourself in the mirror, and wonder whether you look attractive, insane, tired, divorced, desperate, fabulous, or somehow all of them at once.

Then you go.

And the strange part is not even the person sitting across from you. The strange part is you. You are meeting this version of yourself for the first time too.

The same thing happens in other parts of life. There is the first application after deciding you may want a different job, the first time you say out loud that you are thinking about leaving the career path you have been on for years, and the first morning after you actually quit and realize nobody is going to hand you a detailed instruction manual for whatever comes next.

There is the first time you walk into a new office and do not know where anything is, who anybody is, what the unspoken rules are, or which refrigerator shelf will apparently trigger a workplace civil war if you accidentally use it. There is the first night in a different house, the first weekend with a different routine, the first holiday that looks different, and the first time you go somewhere alone that you used to go with somebody else.

The strange thing is that people talk about change as though the hard part is making the decision. Sometimes the decision is actually the easiest part.

The hard part is Tuesday morning.

It is actually putting on the shoes. Actually sending the application. Actually walking into the restaurant. Actually telling the person. Actually showing up somewhere new where nobody knows the version of you that existed before.

That is the part nobody puts on the coffee mug.

Because the first step happens before you have any evidence. You do not yet know that the date will be fine. You do not know that you can function without the old job title. You do not know whether you will like the new place, the new routine, the new people, or even the new version of yourself.

You just have to go anyway.

But after the first step, there is usually a second one. The second date is not quite as strange. The second morning feels a little more normal. The second time you explain what is going on in your life, you do not have to rehearse it first. The second week at a new job, you know where the bathroom is and have probably identified at least one person you can safely complain to.

Eventually, the new thing stops being the new thing. You stop narrating every moment in your head. You stop thinking, “This is the first time I have done this since…” You stop measuring everything against what came before.

And somewhere along the way, without a ceremony, an inspirational soundtrack, or anybody handing you a certificate, you realize you are no longer constantly starting something.

You are just living it.

Maybe that is why the first step feels so enormous. It is not because it is magical. It is not because the universe rewards bravery. It is not because everything on the other side is guaranteed to work out beautifully.

It feels enormous because you have no proof yet.

No proof that the date will be worth getting dressed for. No proof that the new job will fit. No proof that you will like the new routine. No proof that the version of yourself standing on the other side of that decision is anybody you even recognize yet.

And unfortunately, there is only one way to get the proof.

You take the damn step.

Then, if necessary, you take another one.

That is it. No sunrise. No inspirational quote. No swelling music.

Just you, doing the thing you did not know how to do yesterday.

And finding out that now you do.

Judith L Hampton

Attorney-at-Law

Hampton Law Firm