Last week, I wrote about when your heart and head pull you in different directions.

This week, I’ve been thinking about something that came up - people saying they listen to their fear. But when I asked some of them what they’re actually afraid of, the answer was staying stuck.

I had to reflect on it because my logical mind couldn’t understand how you can listen to what fear is telling you and still be stuck. But there’s more than one way to be stuck, and more than one way to listen. I realized I had forgotten that I’ve been there too - listening to fear and letting it keep me stuck for years before I finally did it anyway.

I was stuck in NYC for three years. Stuck with a pandemic as the cherry on top. The pandemic had frozen everything. I’d been focused on surviving, on staying, on not getting forced to go back to Switzerland. My desire to leave had to wait because it was too overwhelming to think about the future when I was just trying to make it through each day.

When things got a bit better, when that wave felt more manageable, the desire came back. And with it came the recognition: I’m stuck again. I remember sitting in my apartment, exhausted, asking myself the same question over and over: “Where should I go?” That question wasn’t just a question. It became a wall.

Where would I go? I don’t know the language there. I don’t know anyone. What would I do for work? The questions would loop endlessly, and the loop would stop me before I could even seriously consider anywhere.

I talked about it with some friends. Mostly with my therapist. Mostly with myself. I’d learned in Switzerland to keep these things private because there’s always someone who wants to share their perspective or give you advice you didn’t ask for. When you share something you don’t have answers to yet, people ask a thousand questions and it becomes overwhelming. So I kept it internal. I’m an introvert anyway. I live a lot in my head. And in my head, “Where?” became the question that kept me frozen.

In September 2022, I decided to take a break. To leave for a month, and the destination I always wanted was Hawaii. Mainly because in my head I was thinking to leave the US - my visa was ending, and I wanted to live my life without visa restrictions. So I was thinking it would be my last trip in the US.

In order to afford it, I needed to sublet my place. I booked everything last minute because if I couldn’t find someone, I couldn’t go. But the universe helped, or maybe my guides did. One night I dreamed about one of my friends. When that happens, I usually reach out within a few days to check on them and make sure they’re okay. During our conversation, I mentioned I was looking for someone trustworthy to sublet my place for a whole month. He told me he had someone in mind - an amazing woman from Germany who was dreaming of spending a month in NYC. It was a perfect match, and it echoed my own story in a way that felt meant to be.

The ticket was $500. I was going to Hawaii for a month to rest, to be in nature, to figure out what came next. I was so excited. I couldn’t believe it. From Switzerland, Hawaii is 24 hours away - the kind of place you dream about but never think will actually happen. And here I was, making it real.

I went to Hawaii for a month. I rented a bike from a local man to get around the island. He offered to hang out and show me some parts of the island, knowing I didn’t drive. One of my friends who lived in Hawaii had told me to be open and let things come my way there. So that’s what I did.

I spent time with him. He showed me the island. The landscapes were so incredible. You know how we sometimes love to compare new places we visit with places we already know? Everything was new for my eyes and heart - no comparison to make. The flowers, the birds, the volcanoes. And somewhere in all of that, I fell in love. Not just with him. With a place that had everything I’d always dreamed of for where I wanted to live - living on an island, somewhere tropical, sunny most of the year, no three-layer winter life, tropical fruits available every day, swimming in the ocean whenever I wanted.

When I came back to NYC on December 1st, 2022, I felt different. Finally ready to leave after all that time. A weight had lifted. I was bored being in NYC. I was hyperactive, wanting to leave as soon as I could. I knew I needed to go. But I still didn’t know where.

People started asking: “So are you moving to Hawaii?” I’d tell my friends about meeting him, about falling in love, and they were excited, living through my story like it was some dreamy romance. “Maybe,” I’d say. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. The relationship was too new to base everything on that. I didn’t want to jump straight to what my heart was feeling and end up stuck again. So I changed the question. Instead of asking “Where?” I started asking “How?” How can I make leaving happen? How much do I need? When could I realistically go? What do I actually need? I made a plan. I gave myself one year. October 2023.

For the next ten months, I executed that plan. I continued going to school every week, 20 hours. I started selling my furniture, my plants, my clothes. Piece by piece, letting go of the life I’d built in NYC. Saying goodbye. And somewhere in those months, after conversations with my love, after facing the fear of going without guarantees, the decision became solid.

The answer to the question “Are you moving to Hawaii?” changed to “yes.”

October 31st, 2023 - I left for Hawaii. Packing up my life in NYC, knowing I was leaving without guarantees. Without certainty. Without control over what would happen next.

I was in love. I was excited. I was moving to Hawaii. A place I never imagined I’d even visit from Switzerland, let alone live in. I needed to leave for myself. I needed to heal. I needed to rest.

I chose to face my fear without having control over the outcome. Without having answers that felt sure. I went for it because I knew it would be rewarding.

Clarity didn’t come from understanding my fear better. It came from taking action while still scared.I ate the cherry and started a new adventure.

With gratitude,Nina