Commitment

People are so afraid of commitment. It’s not a new thing, it’s actually a very old thing, but it remains steadfast the reason for the breakdown of many relationships. So many times I see people asking if they should text first, if they should play it cool, if they should act disinterested. I’ll never understand why people like to play games like that.

There is no shame in committing to wanting something. So what if you fail? At least you tried. If you never try, you’ll spend every day doing the same old thing, over and over again, bored out of your mind, all because you were afraid to publicly commit to something.

Sure, failure is scary. The feeling of your blood turning to ice and your heart sinking like an anchor in your chest is one we are all familiar with. But we face failure every day that we have no control over. Missing a train, spilling your coffee, dropping your phone, they are all failures that we can’t control. If you fail, why not make it an attempt for the stars?

What do you want to do? Start a youtube channel, take a new class, ask out that cute boy or girl you see every day? What’s stopping you? We’re all so scared to publicly commit to something and say ‘That’s it. That’s what I want’ that we don’t even try for these things.

So today, I want you to think about what it is you really want. Write it down. Say it out loud in the mirror. Visualise it. And go for it. Like, really go for it, all guns blazing and putting your heart out there.

You may fail. But hey, at least you tried and that’s better that 90% of people out there.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts” – Winston Churchill

I thought you were my life raft. 

Out there on the ocean, alone, scared, afraid. 

You appeared, and I thought you saved me. You kept me afloat for day after wretched day. 

But you made me forget that I could swim. 

The day you left, my lungs filled with water and I started sinking. But then my legs started kicking and my head broke the surface and I breathed. 
You weren’t my life raft 

You were my anchor