There’s this trope or trend on TikTok where the protagonist, a young woman on the cusp of independence and transformation, stops and turns towards the camera while looking off into the distance, sighs, and smiles. There’s hopeful music in the background, and by the look on her face and the plant/cup of coffee/box of personal items in her hands, we can tell that she’s off to a new adventure; the girl is going to be okay.

While this trend is an affectionate parody of this familiar movie trope, it’s something that we all love to see: our heroine has overcome whatever complexity was written for her, and she is going to live her happily ever after (with or without a man)! We imagine her moving to a new apartment in a totally new city, or finally quitting that horrible office job to open her bakery, or pursuing her lifelong dream of some amazing research opportunity abroad. It’s light, unserious, a little corny, and realistically whimsical. She’s normal or average enough that we can all secretly think: that could totally be me.

What we don’t get to see is the transition she has to go through after that lookback moment. We don’t get to see the quiet times in between all the flurry where she has little slivers of doubt, or the disappointment of something not quite living up to expectations. We don’t see the hard work that she has to put into settling into a new life or a new phase; the moment when the adventures turn into the mundane. That’s because while change may be an inevitable part of life, often they aren’t cinematic. If only we could get that montage through the seasons ala-Notting Hill! Unfortunately, we have no choice but to live through every single moment, whether we like it or not.

Unlike that girl though, I’ve always been kind of scared of change. While I’m great at emergencies (quick action for short term situations with instant results), bigger and slower changes have always been the bane of my existence (consistent actions for long-term situations that require patience before you see results). Whether it’s something as big as uprooting and moving to a different city or a minor change like the end of the holiday season, I get this sense of dread in my chest and a dizzying untethered feeling. Like Sunday Scaries but it happens everyday; until the New Thing becomes The Regular Thing and the landscape no longer looks unfamiliar.

And that’s the root of all fear, isn’t it— The Unknown. Not being able to see beyond the darkness is why basements are inherently scary, or why the vastness of space or the ocean can be so panic inducing. All fear is rooted in not being able to determine the outcome of your situation, and change is precisely that: the uncertain beginning of anything.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you may have seen me repeatedly indicate how resistant to change I am; how it paralyzes me in place. It’s like I’m constantly in a state of getting used to things— and just as I am finally getting into a groove, there goes the wrench again. It feels like at this point I should have gotten used to it already. I’m working on it, I promise. My hope is that I eventually write it out of my system, and I become one of those people who are unfazed by a sudden change in schedule.

A part of my effort to embrace uncertainty is being more cognizant and vocal when those dreadful feelings come up. Yesterday was the last Sunday of the holiday season, and I spent all day pushing down those dark feelings. I wasn’t ready to not have my husband home everyday, to go back into the grind of school work, to balance all the schedules that often feel so dependent on me and my sanity. It was only the first week of January and yet our calendar was already filling up with commitments. In the middle of me trying to hold down the lid on those dark bubbles of dread, I realized I was doing that thing again— trying to ignore feelings and hoping they just go away on their own. They never do though, so I decided it was time get it off my chest. I went up to my husband, and I told him I was getting my Sunday Scaries and I wasn’t handling it well. I feel scared and anxious and not ready, I told him, and I don’t know why.

As always, he gave me the grace I needed. He wrapped me in a hug, and told me that everything was going to be okay. That we can think of the uncertainty as an opportunity for adventure. Let’s be excited for all the things we get to do this month! I know it’s like I’m a child sometimes, but the fear is so real and I need him to help me ground myself again. My husband is like a human backrub; he calms me down and I relax and fall into an ease that is difficult to find on my own. Bless him, truly.

So this is me taking my The Girl Who’s Going to Be Okay moment. In my hands is a cup of coffee and my children’s lunchboxes, looking out into the distance (probably at the calendar so I know what’s going to happen next). Maybe life is a lot easier to live if you let yourself be the main character sometimes, and imagine that you’ve got some kind of plot armor that helps you ease the fear of not knowing what’s going to happen next. I know that’s not real life, but if everything is perspective anyway, we might as well make it a cinematic one.