Years ago, as a teenage girl growing in Adelaide, I dreamed of many things. Well, perhaps not many; probably only a few, such as kissing boys and falling in love and getting married.
A world-changer, I was not.
There was, and still is, a scenic lookout in the foothills of Adelaide called Mount Lofty. Couples used to escape there to canoodle, cuddle, kiss and the rest—I’m sure quite a vast number of children were conceived at the lookout. To be frank, there was not a lot else on offer; the orange glowing pattern of the street lights was pretty but the city itself was small and flat: only so much to look at.
Some years back, a restaurant was built, a fancy-as-you-can-get-in-Adelaide restaurant, I guess to combat the seediness of the region. It worked to a point. Families flocked there for special birthdays and celebrations. Couples first enjoyed a nice dinner together before colliding in a near-drunk state to finish their date half naked in the back seat of their car.
I longed to be taken to the restaurant on a date with a young man where we’d gaze at each other across the table, share a dessert, then kiss like mad in the car, before he drove me home.
I dreamed of passion and excitement.
Instead, my reality in Adelaide was boredom and loneliness. Little did I know, a grander life awaited me across the border. At 25 I moved to Melbourne, uncertain, unhappy and unfulfilled. And I remained that way, even after moving here, for half a decade. Faced with the unsavoury thought of the whole of my life lived that way, I made some brave changes, left the insulated world, the only world I’d ever known and stepped into the unknown.
Once I’d taken that leap, life and my dreams fell into place.
What’s the point of this post?
Even I’m wondering that…I guess that even for us non-world-changers, those of us who don’t buck systems or break rules, the fear of the unknown shouldn’t be a fear at all. Often, it’s where real life meets us head on.