What I Learned About Becoming Myself in 8 Weeks of Fear, Sweat, and Saying Yes

The night before I left for Sri Lanka, I sat on the floor of my New York apartment with Doozer pressed against my chest.

I was ugly‑crying into his fur, whispering that I’d be back soon—even though I knew it would feel like an eternity.

In less than 22 hours, I would board a plane to a country halfway around the world for eight solid weeks of volunteering in mental health.

The list of reasons to back out felt endless:

I was broke.

I would miss Doozer too much.

Leaving meant I needed a subletter, and I hated the idea of someone touching my things.

How could I possibly be unemployed for two months? I would lose the shifts I had worked so hard to earn bartending.

I didn’t speak the language.

I hated being hot.

Night after night I went back and forth.

My brain screamed no.

My gut whispered yes.

So I booked the ticket.

And when the day came, I almost didn’t get on the plane.

At the airport, I clutched a smooth gray rock a coworker had given me—“for courage,” she said—while I ate a last American meal I could barely swallow.

When they called my group to board, my legs felt like they might give out.

For one terrifying second, I actually turned to walk back toward the doors.

But I didn’t.

I got on that plane.

Landing in Sri Lanka was disorienting in every possible way.

The air was thick and heavy. The noise was constant—horns, voices, engines.

I dragged my suitcase through the dust, sweat running down my back, and thought, You’ve made a huge mistake.

Orientation made it worse: a room full of bright‑eyed twenty‑year‑olds on their post‑grad adventures, laughing like they belonged.

I was nearly a decade older.

That night, lying under a ceiling fan, staring at a cracked ceiling, I opened my laptop and searched flights home.

But I stayed.

And slowly, the fear turned into familiarity.

I got used to eating with my hands.

I found the best places for snacks.

I built friendships I didn’t expect.

I bought a fan.

I got used to the heat.

What once terrified me became one of the most important chapters of my life.

I came home braver, wider, and certain of one thing:

Change isn’t a dirty word.

It’s proof you’re alive.

It’s proof you’re becoming.

If you’re standing in your own version of that airport—heart pounding, mind racing through every reason to stay still—I see you.

I know what it feels like to be pulled toward something bigger and wonder if you’re allowed to have it.

Become Her: 5 Days to Power, Purpose & Pleasure on YOUR Terms was created for that exact edge—

The sacred space between fear and desire, between who you’ve been and who you’re ready to become.

💎 If you feel that pull in your chest, trust it. Step toward yourself. Step toward the life that’s waiting.