If ever I was to find myself in the surreally hypothetical situation of having to choose a cheesy mantra to permanently mark my skin with or something terrible would happen, (no more memes, a life without orgasms, a horrible accident in which all my family members cease to exist) who knows, I’m not the one choosing this situation, but it would probably be this; Fortune favours the brave.
As a child, I was painfully shy and could often be found with my head in a book and a reading light. Strangers would often remark to my friends about how quiet I was, to which they would often snort with laughter and reply with an indignant comment. I don’t know what stopped me from being the kid whose face would burn with embarrassment whenever I sneezed in class to being someone ballsy enough to ask out a man on a train during rush hour, blog about pitching with no underwear on or move countries without ever visiting it first. Maybe it was the safety net of growing up with such a close-knit group of friends or the endless love & support from family members. When I was 6, I told my parents I wanted to be a female astronaut, now to put it in perspective I was (and still am) extremely scared of heights, incredibly travel sick and terrible at science/maths, a decade later when I received C’s in maths & science at GCSE’s my mum looked me deadpan in the face and told me she believed I could still be an astronaut if I wanted it hard enough, and I shit you not, she really meant it. That kind of support and unwavering blind belief is not something everyone gets and I am forever grateful for it every day, astronaut or not.
I’m currently sprawled across my sofa staring out the window into blue Mediterranean skies as I type (tap? What’s the verb for writing on an iPad) and I’m reminded that had I not asked a guy out on a train, I wouldn’t have moved abroad to Gibraltar and I wouldn’t have met my bestie, who is the woman that championed me to start drawing and later helped put the idea of Foggish into my head. My relationship may not have worked out but mucky sentiment aside, the confidence and the memories I have from taking that chance have more than shaped me into the woman I am today, and dare I say it but it’s a woman I quite like, hobnob obsession and all.
In case you couldn’t already tell, I truly believe that some of the most rewarding moments in my life have come from taking chances, and if I wasn’t already overloaded with sloganed t-shirts, I’d buy it on one. The experiences you get from doing things outside of your comfort zone far outweigh the possible embarrassment or anxiety of doing said act. I say this as someone with more than enough material to produce an entire tv series of horrible, cringe-worthy scenarios, produced off the back of the phrase ‘what’s the worst that could happen’. Honestly, there are so many incidents of weird or embarrassing shit they are just referred to as foggism’s now.
My point is, not everybody knows what they want to do in life or what kind of a person they want to be, but maybe, just maybe, if you take a couple of chances, and act on those crazy fantasies of yours you might just find yourself one step closer to figuring it out, because as they say, Fortune favours the brave.
P.S Valentina Tereshkova you will always be my hero.