When Was the Last Time

I came across a question a while ago, and it’s been echoing in my mind ever since:

“When was the last time you tried something for the first time?”

It stopped me in my tracks.

And if I’m being completely honest with myself…

I didn’t have an answer.

Not a real one.

Not a moment I could point to and say, “Yes — that was it.”

It’s not that I’ve been doing anything wrong —

just everything the same.

The same patterns.

The same routines.

The same excuses, dressed in slightly different clothes.

I’ve been busy checking boxes and calling that a life.

But that’s not what living is supposed to feel like.

That question didn’t shame me.

It stirred something in me.

It reminded me I’ve been surviving on autopilot

instead of searching for the kind of moments that make me feel something.

Not just safe — but alive.

Not just familiar — but free.

We’re all handed this strange, beautiful, complicated thing called life.

But how often do we actually receive it?

Not just the easy parts, or the pieces that look good from the outside —

but the unfamiliar.

The uncomfortable.

The things we don’t already know how to do.

The things that scare us —

and might also grow us.

It’s so easy to settle into comfort zones and call it peace.

But growth doesn’t live there.

You don’t evolve by repeating what you’ve already mastered.

There will always be hard days.

We’ll mess up.

We’ll get hurt.

We’ll question ourselves.

That’s part of the deal.

But so is the wonder.

So are the sunrises we haven’t watched,

the roads we haven’t taken,

the versions of ourselves we haven’t even met yet.

There is still so much we haven’t experienced —

and the only way to access any of it

is by stepping forward into the unknown.

Not just when we’re ready.

Not just when we feel brave.

Even when we’re shaking.

Because we weren’t made to be spectators in our own stories.

We weren’t built to sit quietly in the backseat

while life drives us around.

We were born to participate.

To steer.

To swerve.

To take wrong turns and still find something meaningful along the way.

Trying something new doesn’t have to be loud.

It doesn’t have to be big.

Sometimes, it’s quiet and deeply personal — and still powerful.

It can be saying yes when you usually say no.

It can be asking for what you need.

It can be cooking something you’ve never made before,

or wearing a color that scares you,

or finally giving yourself permission to rest.

It can be setting a boundary.

It can be forgiving yourself.

It can be simply showing up in a way that’s honest.

Trying something for the first time isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being present.

It’s about being curious.

It’s about being willing to get uncomfortable

in exchange for something real.

Comfort zones can feel like safety, but eventually, they turn into cages.

And there’s no adventure in a cage.

So here’s my quiet vow to myself:

To stop waiting for “someday.”

To stop telling myself that now isn’t the right time.

To create new moments.

To chase new beginnings.

To show up for the life waiting outside the lines I’ve drawn.

Because that’s where meaning lives —

not just in the milestones,

but in the in-between moments we were brave enough to choose.

So I’ll leave you with this:

When will you try again?