I wish I had more time…
How many times have I caught myself saying that? And how many times was it just a big lie?
I’m in the midst of, yet another moving in less than 5 months, and one of the thoughts I had when I knew we were going to move out earlier than expected was “I wish I had more time…”
But “more time” to do what exactly?
Doing errands, watching movies at night, going to the swimming pool, eating fast food, …?
We’ve done all of those things, so why did I feel like I needed more time?
And one thing that struck me was that I was afraid of what people would think of us coming back in Matupá and living at my in-laws’.
Although this time will be different because Davidson has already a job waiting for him there, I still felt like a loser for not being able to keep that apartment for more than 3 months.
At first I didn’t want to accept the situation and I even bargained asking Davidson “what would it take to stay here a bit longer?”
But would it really make me happier to stay here longer?
When I realized that the main reason of why I wanted to have more time was the fear of being judged, I knew I was being irrational.
My decisions should not be based on what people would think of me but rather on what would bring me more joy and peace of mind in my life.
I don’t expect my friends or family to understand this particular decision and that’s ok.
It’s my life after all.