5 Lessons on Being an Introvert in a Loud World

“Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.”

– Albert Camus

I’m a writer, a presenter, and a teacher. My talents, at least the latter two, are best put to use in situations where I have an audience. In addition to being all of these things, I am also an introvert and a highly sensitive person. This means that mentally and emotionally, I am better without an audience and all of the stimulus that comes with lots of public interaction.

Isn’t this a contradiction? Absolutely it is. Navigating in a world where I shine in a place that also happens to be emotionally detrimental to me has always been challenging. Doing what I love comes at a cost, and I’ve had to learn to be protective of myself.

What is a Highly Sensitive Person?

We’re all bombarded by various stimulus at any given moment. Some of this is related to the five senses. This could be background conversations, various things occurring in our field of vision, somebody brushing against us as we pass, and the smells we encounter. Then there is emotional stimulus. In any given day, we witness people displaying a wide range of emotions.

For most people, the brain does its job quite efficiently by filtering all of this stimulus and storing it away as background noise. For people like me, the brain doesn’t do this job as well as it should. All of the inbound ‘noise’ can become unbearable. Like many HSP individuals, I am also an introvert.

This makes for a very noisy world. Fortunately, it’s one I’ve learned to thrive in, thanks to these lessons.

1. Stick to a Schedule When Possible

This isn’t to say that life as an HSP introvert is a life doomed to no spontaneity, but there is some real value in predictability. If I start the day knowing what my schedule looks like, I can identify the tasks and interactions that will be challenging for me, and be able to predict the times when I will need to take action to recover and recoup my emotional resources.

The result of this is that not only am I better off emotionally, I am much more enjoyable to be around, and I can make the most productive use of my talents. This is because I can bring out the teacher and presenter sides of myself when I need to be switched on, and then seek solace in being a writer when I have time to myself.

2. Take The Time to Figure Out How Your Brain Works

If you are an introvert, take the time to understand exactly what that means, not just in a general sense, but for you specifically. HSP and introversion don’t operate in exactly the same way from one person to the next. For example, I can be in a relatively loud environment if I have a focal point. I do absolutely fine attending the theater or enjoying a concert but, on the other hand, parties and crowded nightspots are an absolute nightmare for me. I suspect this is because, in these situations, I don’t have a single thing on which to focus. When external stimuli come from so many different sources at various levels of intensity, I struggle to sort it all out.  Understanding my particular brand of HSP and introversion has helped me to create some great coping strategies.

3. Know Which Situations Will be Most Challenging

I have something called my ‘Defcon 5 List’. This is my list of situations that are extremely difficult for me to contend with, even for a relatively short period of time. Unfortunately, this list is the result of painful and very personal experience. However, once I became aware of some of the situations that caused me to struggle the most, I realized that I could then predict other situations that would be just as challenging for me.

Of course, awareness doesn’t necessarily translate into the ability to avoid. Not only that avoidance isn’t always desirable. What awareness does do for me is that it lets me know that I need to prepare myself for these situations and that I need to allow myself time to get back to normal afterwards.

4. Focus on Growing Not Fixing

Being an introvert or an HSP is not a disease, and it’s not a character flaw. It isn’t something that needs to be cured. However, it also doesn’t mean that no effort should be made to grow or challenge yourself. When I am deciding whether or not to expose myself to a challenging situation, I do a bit of a risk-benefit analysis. I try to determine what I will gain not just from the experience itself, but also from forcing my boundaries to get a bit wider and challenging myself.

If I determine that I simply am not up to the challenge, I don’t beat myself over it. When I am able to challenge my limits, I give myself permission to feel proud of the effort and accomplishment.

5. Develop an Understanding of Extroverts

I think the world is becoming more accepting of introverts and becoming more educated on what it means to be an introvert. In fact, if you were to Google ‘introvert memes’ you can find lots of visual depictions of what life is like for an introvert. Many of these are very spot on. One thing that has come with this increasing acceptance and understanding is a bit of a backlash against extroverts. I think it’s important to put it out there that extrovert is not synonymous with loud, insensitive, brash, or boorish. Someone can be an extrovert and also be thoughtful, contemplative, and bright.

I’ve found it easier to relate to extroverts now that I understand that where I lose energy, they gain energy. That’s helped me to get past some of my own prejudice and tendencies to misinterpret the actions of introverts that I interact with. For example, I understand now that when one of my extrovert friends really wants me to socialize, they aren’t pushing me to do something I don’t care to do. They are sharing something that brings them joy.

What do you think? Do you have any coping strategies that you have created as an HSP? If there are extroverts who are also HSP, your input would be especially interesting.

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by Kerry Creaswood

A Limitless Definition of My Value

“To define is to limit.” – Oscar Wilde

My mom cried when I told her I didn’t want to play basketball in third grade. Not that I remember my reason for not wanting to play, but it was probably because I didn’t want my dad to yell at me again while on the court in front of all my friends, coaches, and teammates, telling me to be tough even though I was sprawled on the court looking at my bleeding knee.

Growing up, I was expected to be athletic. Being beautiful was second priority, but that’s a whole other story that has very little to do with this one. Athleticism was already in my blood, passed on by very talented parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, but my duty was to make my talents better than what had already been given to me.

In high school, I remember becoming a little distracted by boys and quickly learned this was unacceptable. College was near and not going just wasn’t an option. Of course, my elders wanted me to get an education, but they didn’t know why. If they didn’t know, how the hell was I supposed to know? What they did know, however, was that collegiate athletes were liked by many and seemed to be more fortunate in life.

“This is a time when you need to decide if you want to be successful or not,” my dad told me on my fifteenth birthday, in reference to sports. “Is it going to be volleyball, basketball, or track? And at what school?”

Needless to say, I basically grew up believing that success came from my accomplishments in sports. I won awards with titles defining how I performed throughout a season. The more I received, the more greedy I became, and it was an unhealthy addiction.

I stood out as a youngster and was taught that my value lied in my athletic achievements. If I had lost a race, I instantly felt invaluable. What was the point? I didn’t accomplish what I came here to do. And the toughest critic turned out to be yours truly.

Then I became a little smarter. I started to grow up and separate my own thoughts apart from others. I was discovering more about the person that I actually wanted to be. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy sports, because I really did and still do. They were a homey comfort to me, sort of like a safety net. A basketball court has always been a place where I feel accepted. I could probably even fall asleep with a volleyball in my arms as opposed to a teddy bear. But at a teen, I wasn’t sure if the athletic path was the one I wanted to take. It was just all I had known up to that point.

In an attempt to be “successful” the way I was taught, I competed for a well-respected collegiate track and field program, feeling like I had something to prove. Eighteen is a tough age for anyone, and after two exhausting years, I saw the perfect opportunity to stop wasting my time with meaningless efforts and activities that brought serious daily anxiety. I would never trade the friendships I made with teammates, nor would I take back the killer abs I worked so hard to get, but I had reached a stopping point. I wanted my freedom back.

I heard everything under the sun after announcing my discontinuation of organized competitive sports:

“What a waste of talent.”
Gee, thanks. Was this the only thing I was good at?

“Don’t ever quit.”
Well, either I become an Olympian (which I never even gave a single thought) or I move on with a more realistic career.

“You will regret it for the rest of your life.”
Okay, this one made me laugh. I have zero regrets so far.

“You’re missing out on a chance of a lifetime.”
Not really, I already ran in college for two years. Stepped foot on some of the fastest tracks in the nation. Worked with big names. Lost and won. Cried, sweat, bled. I know what it’s like. You don’t.

Most importantly, it doesn’t matter what other people said to me or about me. They have their own lives to worry about and it’s not their job to determine or evaluate mine. My value does not and will never be contained by my athletic ability. I am so much more and although I have real love for these sports as well as my individual journey through them, I will never let them define me. Sports may be what I do and what I enjoy, but they are not who I am.

What have you felt defined by in your past?

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by Jen Marley

How I Abandoned Everything in Search of Myself

“Those who know where the treasure lies, joyfully abandon everything else to secure it.” – D.A. Carson

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I had gone through the motions that most others my age went through – high school, college, job. That was it, that was the plan and that was the direction I was heading towards. Until it wasn’t.

I studied elementary education and had every intention of being a teacher. The dream of having my own classroom and working in inner-city schools was really attractive to me. Really! So, I was on my way towards that, until I wasn’t.

Instead, I joined the Peace Corps. Different paths post-college led me there and it was something that had always interested me. This wild, exotic fantasy of living completely alone whilst “saving the world” definitely had its allure to a young 20-something. So I did it, and it rocked my world. Did I save the world? Absolutely not, but that experience, that village, it definitely saved me.

It was all “planned” out, hours spent researching the best programs in the US to get my Masters of Education, grandiose ideas of living in a new state and beginning to settle into a normal life. After the Peace Corps, I would assume my role as loyal citizen to the US. I would teach, I would take out a mortgage and I would be happy. Until I didn’t.

About 18 months into my Peace Corps service, after riding this emotional roller coaster of emotions, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was living abroad and that I kind of liked it. I also came to the realization that all these fancy-schmancy schools offering the best degrees were not cheap. What to do?

Commence the research, this time, the google search term, “ways to make money fast in Asia.” And there it was, teach English! Of course, EVERYONE was doing that and it seemed that the money was really there. I felt that I had an upper-hand because my degree was in education, and I wasn’t straying at all from what I set out to do 5 years ago. Instead of teaching in the US, I would just be teaching abroad now. Teach for a year, save up a stack of cash, go home and study. Done. Until it wasn’t.

I ended up teaching in Taiwan and falling in love with the country. Taiwan is a fascinating little country, rarely visited by tourists. People are genuinely nice there, public transportation is incredible, it’s a prime spot for vegetarians and the health-care is fantastic. It was the perfect place to live. Until it wasn’t.

The problem with Taiwan was the work-culture. They have a 6-day workweek over there (which is actually pretty standard for Asia) but the days are long, and so are the mornings and nights. I found myself in a 60+ hour workweek, between work and commuting, I was spending a lot of time away from home, thus sacrificing a lot of personal time for growth and happiness. As the money stacked up, I became more and more tired, finding ways to squeeze in naps during the day whenever possible. Surely this wasn’t sustainable, and it wasn’t.

I left Taiwan earlier than expected. I had my stack of cash saved, but instead of putting that stack towards my student loan I traveled the world (uh, Asia…I traveled Asia). Over two years of constant work, the last thing I wanted to do was lose it instantly. Instead, I followed my heart and haven’t looked back since. And I didn’t.

I have absolutely no regrets, (even when the student loan folks are calling incessantly) for taking the time to travel instead of forking over the cash to be debt free. There’s so much freedom in traveling and living the life that I’m living, that I have no worries about what will happen.

Instead, I’m living in the present taking it one day at a time. What traveling has taught me, and is still teaching me, is to trust and let go. I know that there have been times that I have been on the verge of bankruptcy, but the universe has always provided. Yes, I’m still living off of that stack that I piled up over a year ago, and trust me it’s not much anymore, but I’m trusting in myself that I will always be taken care of.

There’s always work to do and money to be made. Will I be able to pile it up money as easily as I did in Taiwan, absolutely not, but simplicity is also something I’ve learned along the way. I don’t NEED all this money. Yes, it’s reassuring to have, but when food and accommodation are provided for, what else do you need?

I know this must sound crazy. I have no savings whatsoever and I’m heading into my 30s this year. Yes, I’ve thought about that and I trust that I’ll eventually “get my shit together” and have a constant flow of money. I won’t be young forever, but right now I am.

It baffles me to hear so many people “saving” so that they can travel. Why not just travel now? Why not do what you want to now when you know you can. The present is what we have. We’re constantly saving for our “future” but there’s no guarantee that the future will be there. Is that a pessimistic way of looking at things? I don’t think so, I think it’s hopeful and inspiring.

Now, that’s not to say it’s been rainbows and unicorns the whole way. It’s taken quite the journey to get to where I am. Looking around at my friends who have stable jobs, marriages and children and then comparing it to what I have, a depleting bank account and the same clothes I’ve been wearing since college. But that’s just thing, I can’t compare. Everyone is on their own journey. What works for me may not work for others. Maybe others do not want to live this life of uncertainty, and instead, feel completely comfortable with where they are, and that’s totally fine.

But for me, this is working. Yes, it’s scary and I’ve had my fair share of breakdowns, and still do. I often stop and wonder, “what the hell are you doing?!” But then I bring myself back to my breath and the present moment. Being reassured by the notion that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. The places that this beautiful, strange world has taken me to is something that I never planned for. I ride the waves in life and find myself washed ashore in these incredible places. Each one teaching me something new. And I keep going.

I don’t know where I’m going next and I don’t know what it is I’m looking for. But does it matter? Whatever it is I’m subconsciously looking for will eventually find me, and when it does I’ll know. For now, I’m going to continue to wear my old clothes and have those minor freak outs over my dwindling account. But at the same time, I’m going to embrace life and live in the moment because that’s the one thing I know will always be there. How do you live fully and presently?

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by Tara DeAugustine

An Actor’s Mindset: How Improv Has Changed My Life

I was never an outgoing kid. A series of unfortunate events during my high school years, whose perpetrators undoubtedly know of my longlasting distress, left me emotionally crippled. I was shy to the point of becoming unable even to talk to friends without getting overwhelmed by anxiety. My self-esteem was dangerously low, and I found that living day-to-day became a Herculean struggle. As far as I was concerned, everything that went wrong was my fault; everything that went right did so in spite of own failings. And my failings were plenty. I felt ugly. Disgusting. Stained, inside and out. Crazy. Worst of all, unlovable. Anyone who has ever felt such emotional pain and despair understands what it’s like to live through these kinds of feelings. “Living” might be too optimistic of a word, in fact. One begins to feel like the walking manifestation of death itself.

Oddly enough, I did have a hobby that consistently brought joy to my life, and it was the last hobby anybody, including myself, would have expected from somebody like me. I was an actor. I discovered my passion late into middle school, and carried it with me throughout all of my suffering in high school. I established myself as (and I say so not to be pompous, but because it was often told to me) one of the most talented actors in the 300-some population of the school. I started with side characters, and people told me I stole the shows. I ascended to lead roles and consistently began to win awards from the school’s theatre program. Judges from the annual Illinois State Theatre Festival even selected a production in which I was a lead to be performed in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of students from across the state. When I walked on stage, people noticed and paid attention. I took command of each and every role I was given, and pulled them off with a skill that never failed to impress. One would expect, after seeing me onstage, that I would be among the most outgoing, confident individuals in the community. And yet, inside, I was broken. I frequently overheard conversations between my directors regarding the amazing dichotomy between my stage self and my “real” self, although I always hesitated to apply such a label to the dysfunctional mess that I had become.

My passion for acting, and my ever-wavering spirits, followed me into college. To my dismay, lead roles in the theatre program of Illinois State University were mostly reserved for theatre majors. After having become accustomed to lead roles, I became rather disenchanted and set acting to the backburner for good.

The consequences followed immediately. Another series of events landed me briefly in a nearby hospital. I plummeted to the worst condition I could have imagined. Soon after my discharge, though, a loose acquaintance of mine offhandedly mentioned that an improv troupe would be holding auditions. With less than two days to prepare, I resigned myself to the reality that no matter how good of an actor I was, there was no possible way I was talented enough to join “the big leagues.” College-level acting, no less than the notoriously difficult art of improvisational acting, was out of my reach. And yet I never truly gave up, for I allowed myself to hope just enough to bother attending the audition.

There was stiff competition, of course, and the senior members performed incredibly as they demonstrated what we would do during the audition. As far as I was concerned, I had already failed. But when I stepped onstage, the switch flipped. I returned to my element, nailed the audition, moved on to callbacks, and nailed them too. As abruptly as I had even decided to interest myself with the team, I was a member.

The team had existed for almost twenty years, having been formed slightly before my birth. Its name was Improv Mafia, and the senior members informed me (proudly, though not arrogantly) that they were a rather big deal in the world of collegiate improv. I was shown a stunning collection of plaques and trophies. Regional champions, national champions. They had alumni all over the country, nailing roles in professional improv troupes. In short, I had stumbled upon a group that had a decorated history, a group that had good reason to be unimaginably selective.

The other members’ reaction to my selection, and the selection of the other three newcomers, was quite unlike what I had expected. I had never experienced such a sheer outpouring of love, acceptance, and enthusiasm from people whose names I hadn’t even learned yet. As luck would have it, this love would never waver, even as I struggled to love myself.

The Mafia held to a rigorous schedule: practice five hours per week, plus a two-hour show every Tuesday. We never charged any money for attendance; we performed because we had a passion for the art, because we took it seriously. We took the ridiculous seriously, as went our motto. Naturally, you begin to form bonds with people you spend so much time with, and each person begins to spread a bit of their likeness to everyone else. During the countless hours of time with the Mafia, I absorbed many lessons and philosophies. I firmly believe that these philosophies can be applied to anyone’s life and, as with mine, provide a seemingly infinite source of self-improvement.

I say this because my life has improved immeasurably in these short few months. My self-esteem is higher than it has been in almost five years. I have newfound confidence in myself. My day-to-day life, while still pelted with occasional hiccups, is far less treacherous, all because of Improv Mafia. While it would be impossible to articulate every lesson this group has taught me, they can be distilled in such a way as to provide aid to those in need, or to simply improve a life that is already atop the waves of contentment.

Firstly, have confidence in your own decisions. When the Mafia performs, we try to avoid “being in our heads.” This means we make decisions about how our acted scene will evolve, and we fully commit to them. Nothing destroys a scene more quickly than pausing to doubt yourself. It breaks your immersion from the scene and makes it difficult to recover. Think of a movie or video game that you just couldn’t “get into,” and you’ll get a good idea of what we try to avoid while acting. Similarly, my life outside of acting improved significantly when I stopped doubting each and every decision that I made. I used to doubt every move I took, every word I spoke, and every friendship I made. As it stands now, I have the confidence necessary to commit to myself and trust that I not only have my best interests in mind, but also the ability to follow through and execute them. The difference is quite indescribable. In years past, most of my free time would be spent worrying about the state of my friendships, wondering if I had done something to harm them. Since Mafia, my mind has become much clearer, my life has become less stressful, and I can dedicate my time and mental exertion to more productive tasks.

This self-improvement comes not only to my benefit, but to the benefit of my loved ones as well. I concern myself greatly with the well-being of my friends, and I do all that I can help them in all matters, big and small. However, my capacity to help them was limited by my capacity to help myself. Nobody feels comfortable unloading their problems onto an individual already burdened with so many problems of their own. Slowly, people have begun to recognize my personal progress, and I have faith that they will trust me more to help them when problems in their lives arise. Within the improv sphere, a general guideline is to help yourself before helping your partner. That is, establish your own character and background before attempting to establish those of the person with whom you are performing. Good scenes don’t occur when both actors are so afraid to step on each other’s toes that they refuse to assert themselves.

Generally speaking, you also can’t refuse to accept scenarios that your fellow actor puts forward. If your partner remarks that the scene is taking place within a grocery store, the appropriate response is to affirm this new reality and add to it. To contradict your partner is to confuse them, deny them, and imply that their attempt at establishing the scene wasn’t good enough for you. In my daily life, affirmation is an important coping mechanism. I’ve always known that I cannot change everything in my life, but Mafia taught me to accept this and to affirm reality as it is. The serenity prayer, essentially, applied to everyday life. You make better scenes when you affirm, and your life is smoother when you affirm the cards you are dealt. This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t attempt to improve yourself and better your situation; it means that such attempts shouldn’t be the determining factor of your happiness. Conventional wisdom tells us that we can never be satisfied if we think, “I’ll be happy when I get this, or when I achieve that.” You need to find satisfaction in the moment, regardless of circumstance, just like you need to find motivation to accept your partner’s reality when you act improvisationally.

Perhaps the most basic, foundational lesson I’ve learned is that it is always wise to hope. Even when I was at my lowest, I allowed myself a glimmer of hope, and now my life is better than it has practically ever been. I understand what it feels like to be hopeless, and to live day-by-day feeling that I can’t get any lower. But if I gave in to that despair, I never would have met the people who are now some of my closest friends. If you struggle to look forward to tomorrow, allow yourself one more day. If you have the strength, give yourself that glimmer, and give yourself time to see where it goes. What results may just surprise you.

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by Matthew Crawford

How I Conquered Self-Doubt and How You Can Too

Ever since I was a child I struggled with self-doubt. That feeling that you aren’t good enough, that you can’t accomplish anything, that you’ll never be successful or happy. I wrestled with that feeling every day, trying desperately to not let it overwhelm me. Yet try as I might to avoid these thoughts I could hardly escape them. You see I was a dreamer. I would tell anyone who would listen all of my big hopes and dreams, my greatest aspirations, only to be met with cynicism and criticism. My teachers, my elders, my peers, would bombard me with phrases like “you need to be realistic”, “you’ll never be successful doing that” and “you aren’t capable of achieving that”.

Naturally, over time, these phrases eroded away what little sense of self-confidence I had. I tried not to become so easily dissuaded but their cold remarks and rebukes truly crushed me. It came to the point that whenever I tried to pursue a goal or a dream, I mentally defeated myself before I ever even began. Thoughts like: “you aren’t meant to be successful”, “you’re not good enough” and “why do I even bother” raced to the forefront of my mind, dashing any sense of hope with vicious immediacy. I felt hopeless and in my mind I was hopeless. In my mind, I was nothing more than a mere casualty in the war against self-doubt.

Because I felt I was succumbing to the negative thoughts that permeated my consciousness I became ashamed. Which of course exacerbated the feelings of worthlessness I had already developed. It was as if every time I failed to start something, every time I failed to pursue my goals, those feelings washed over me like a wave. A wave that came crashing down the moment I began to build up some semblance of self-confidence. Negative thoughts became a mainstay in my head. They had moved in and taken up residence. Unfortunately, for me, my brain was never all that adept at making evictions.

Meanwhile, I would see others around me succeeding. going to college, graduating college, becoming gainfully employed, and I resented them. I loathed them. And I loathed myself because of my inability to attain what they had. All I wanted was to be considered a success and yet I never even gave myself a real shot at it. Before long my defeatist attitude manifested into self-destructive behavior. I stopped going to school, I stopped showing up to my job, I blocked every positive influence out of my life. The downward spiral continued.

Until one day, I’m not sure what sparked it, but for whatever reason, I woke up and decided enough was enough. From that day going forward I decided I was going to change my life. I was so tired of looking at myself in the mirror and feeling disgusted at what I saw. I was so tired of talking down to myself. I was sick and tired of hating who I was. So I set out to wage war on the voice inside my head. I was going to do battle with my self-esteem and goddamnit I was going to win this civil war. Finally, The voice that for years was powered by the admonishments and condescending remarks made by myself, teachers, elders, and contemporaries would finally be silenced. I was on a mission.

I started by focusing on gaining little victories. I felt that if I could just remain positive while accomplishing little tasks then that would somehow eventually allow me to build confidence and remain positive when faced with larger challenges. So I made sure I woke up at 6:00 am every day. I made sure I worked out and exercised every day. I made sure I engaged in healthy behaviors as opposed to self-destructive ones.

Essentially, I began to organize my life. I showed up on time to work every day and doubled my output. I made sure my car was clean, my room was clean, I began to take pride in my possessions and in keeping things orderly. This taught me how to take pride in myself. As time went on I was getting in increasingly better shape through my renewed dedication to exercise, I was performing better at my job, and most importantly I felt more confident. I finally felt capable and in control.

To help myself stay on track (and keep the negative thoughts on the defensive) I bombarded my brain with positivity. Every day I would write down a list of the positive attributes and redeemable qualities I had. I would also write down everything I had accomplished that day in accordance with goals I had set. Which forced me to be accountable. As I achieved more and more  I felt incredibly capable —  like I truly had the ability to accomplish anything. The voice was still there. The self-doubt still existed. But I was driving it back, forcing it to retreat as I gained ground.

As my newfound confidence grew I looked at my goals and modified them. I wanted to set them as high as possible. I completely changed my attitude and my perspective. Now, anything was achievable. I kept encouraging myself and the little victories were piling up. I was losing weight, making new friends, smiling more, and remaining disciplined. To me, these little victories represented immense hope. The hope that these seemingly inconsequential insignificant victories would one day translate into me becoming financially, personally, and professionally successful.

Fortunately, that’s just what happened. I parlayed my newfound work ethic, discipline, and positive attitude into starting my own successful company. I have a beautiful girlfriend and loving friends, I am living a dream that seemed so far beyond the realm of possibility just a few years ago.  All because I was able to change the narrative in my head. I went from hating myself and thinking negatively about myself to loving and accepting who I am and thinking positively.

I hope this post can encourage you to remain positive and fight the good fight against self-doubt. For anyone wondering the most significant changes I made were as follows:

• I learned how to accept myself for who I am as an individual instead of trying to fight it.
• I learned how to accomplish little manageable tasks to build my self-confidence.
• I discovered the benefits of positive self-talk. I simply kept referring to myself in a positive manner even when faced with negativity. It did wonders for my self-esteem.
• I started to believe in myself and my capabilities. I stopped listening to what other people had to say about me. They weren’t me. I am in control of what I do with my life Not other people.
• I never quit. I decided to make a change and I stuck to it. I did everything in my power to accomplish my goal and view myself and my abilities in a positive light.
• Most importantly I learned how to appreciate and love who I am.

Have you or are you struggling with self-doubt? If so, just know, you will beat it. I have faith in you, now it’s time for you to have faith in you.

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by Leon Z 

My Transformation from Corporate Hostage to Full-Time Traveler

It’s two years since I made the decision to change my life. Two years since I took a leap from the supposed security of an executive career and comfortable home. Two years since I started prioritizing happiness and began changing my life for the better.

My story is a pretty typical tale of pursuing the American Dream. After my university education, I entered the workplace and stepped onto the first rung of the corporate ladder. I fell in love, got married and bought a home. My husband or I earned various promotions or received job offers to move to other parts of the country, or in one case across to the other side of the world. We bought bigger homes and newer cars and acquired all the other trappings of success.

I was particularly ambitious. I found my work style especially well-suited to my chosen career in strategic marketing and I rose up the ranks. But as I climbed higher up the ladder and as the corporate landscape changed after the financial crisis, I became increasingly disillusioned. I found companies became focused on short-term thinking with an insatiable appetite for instant gratification and sales promotions, rather than good strategy and strong execution. Their expectation was that my every waking (and sometimes sleeping) hour should revolve around them. But I had a California-sized mortgage and matching lifestyle to pay for – so it seemed I had no choice. I felt trapped in the corporate world.

My respite from this was my love of travel. For vacation, we would rent apartments in fun places and pretend to live like locals if only for a week. We fantasized about leaving all the corporate nonsense behind us and having the time to visit all the national parks we had read about and to travel the world and experience different cultures. Then a lightbulb came on and we realized it wasn’t our jobs that were stopping us living the life we wanted, it was our financial obligations. Without the costs of a mortgage, property tax, condo fees and running two cars, we could afford to earn considerably less, and stretch our savings to travel long term.

It was like a reset in our thinking. We thought our desire to travel long term was hampered by our need to have a full-time salary to pay for our house but realized that if we traveled then we didn’t really need a house. Our desired lifestyle actually fit perfectly with the idea of selling our home and most of our possessions. The deal was sealed. We put our house on the market, we got rid of most everything we owned, I quit my job and we bought an Airstream Trailer and hit the road.

We now split our time between traveling in the US and renting apartments in other places in the world. I work part time to supplement our savings, but our lifestyle is so much less expensive than it used to be, we hardly notice the reduced income.

So how do I feel about my new life?

I am a much more mindful consumer: Traveling light and living small have taught me to appreciate everything more. When living off the grid I am acutely aware of the weather, wondering if the sun will shine enough on our solar panels to charge our batteries or if the incoming storm means I have to hunker down and secure our home. I only buy things that have more than one purpose, don’t use too much water or electricity or generate too much waste. When we travel overseas we pack light and make sure our clothes and shoes are practical and meet a variety of climates.

I have better relationships: The pressures of my work could make me irritable and short-tempered with people who didn’t deserve to be treated badly. On the other hand, I also had to work with people who I didn’t like, who were jerks or who were just a negative force. I am now lucky enough to be able to work with who I want and quit working with people whose values I don’t share.

The quality of my work is better: It’s a strange phenomenon but now that I work as a freelance consultant I am less concerned about career progression and I am less vested in a single product or company. I have an outsiders view which allows me to be less emotional, more candid and I provide impartial direction to my clients that I may have been intimidated to bring to the table as an employee. Also because my schedule is flexible and my plate is not as full I am more responsive than ever

I feel in control: When you talk about selling everything and quitting your job, many people question how you could leave that security. But with a mortgage, a stagnant economy, and the fact that I’m getting older, i.e. less employable, I didn’t feel I was leaving much behind. Now I can turn my life on a dime. I can adjust my expenses easily by locating myself in areas with lower costs of living, I can take more work if I need to. I feel fully in control of my life and I’m not beholden to an employer for my financial stability.

I am excited about the future: My nomadic lifestyle always gives me something to look forward to. It’s hard to be bored when you move a lot. You are either experiencing new things, or you are planning what you are doing next. Sometimes you are just relaxing and enjoying where you are. It’s almost impossible to not be filled with optimism if you have endless possibilities in front of you.

I am making great memories: Many people talk about how quickly time passes, I used to be that person. Time does fly when you do the same things day in day out. But now when people say “can you believe it’s March already”, I say I can’t believe it’s only March. In the last 6 months I have traveled to 3 continents, I have hiked in national parks, kayaked in mountain lakes, and tried to communicate in a language I don’t understand. I’ve done so many things I can’t believe that I fitted it all in. I am a great believer in the ethos – if you want to lead a memorable life you have to do things worth remembering.

I am so much happier: Full time travel is not all plain-sailing and it certainly isn’t a permanent vacation. It can be uncomfortable, unsettling and frankly sometimes just a pain in the ass. Finding somewhere to do laundry, dealing with cultural confusion and wondering if I’ll ever have a decent haircut again are just some of my first world problems. But I would never trade my old life for the happiness I feel and the freedom I have to schedule my own day to decide where and how I want to spend my time.

So do I have any regrets from the last 2 years? Do I miss the executive title, salary or expense account? Do I regret selling my home and most of my possessions? Absolutely not, it was the best decision I have ever made and it’s hard to imagine living any other way now. My only regret is not doing it sooner.

Not all life changes have to be quite so drastic. What changes have you made that have made you happier? What do you think would bring more happiness to you? Why do you think we prioritize things over experiences in our society?

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by Kate Gilbert