Stuck in the Now: The Fear of Losing What I Don’t Want…

It’s been a few years since the slow drag of growing up in a poor family. Of watching the world through windows I couldn’t afford to open. It’s a bit different now.. Now, I’ve got a career at a reputable company, in a position that would have once seemed impossible to a younger version of myself.

And I hate it.

That’s not entirely fair. I like it, in the way someone likes something because they’ve seen worse. I’ve had enough crappy jobs to know this one’s the best I’ve managed so far. It pays well and it sounds good on paper, but that doesn’t stop the voice inside me that keeps saying, “this isn’t it.”

Without revealing too much, I’m a manager in the guest service industry. That means I do a bit of everything: carry trays, invoice food costs, present budgets, smile at happy people, de-escalate angry ones, coordinate with other departments, and, more often than not, do their jobs too. And then wonder what, exactly, they do all day.

It’s not boring, not completely. The benefits are wild. I’m not talking dental. I’m talking private jets, five-star hotels, bottles of wine that cost more than my first car. I eat, fly, stay, and host on someone else’s dime. I rub shoulders with people whose net worth has a comma in every direction. I have their numbers in my phone. They know me by name. They’d hire me in a heartbeat.

This is luxury experience.

This, is exhausting…

It’s a strange place to be, grateful and miserable all at once. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I don’t have a degree, or any post-secondary education. Just a high school diploma, some hustle, and a stubborn belief that I’m the best server on the planet. Somehow, I’ve convinced the company of that too.

In four years, I’ve become important here. Not because I had the qualifications, but because someone saw something in me, (or maybe just thought I was funny) and put me in the right rooms at the right times.

Still, something in me is restless. Achievements and perks can’t quiet the pull toward something else. Something real. Something mine.

I’ve spent most of my adult life doing what people without a formal education do; working in the service industry. I got good at it. Too good. And like many people who are too good at something they didn’t choose, I made it my identity.

Some days, it catches up to me. The dread. The burnout. The resentment. Other days, it’s quieter. Not anger, not sadness.. Just a nudge. A knowing. A quiet truth that it’s time to change.

But I haven’t moved. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m scared.

Scared of losing what little luxury I’ve carved out. Scared of stepping away from the parts that almost feel good. Scared of walking away from a life that looks successful, even if it doesn’t feel it.

And that’s the hardest part. I’m not afraid of failure. I’m afraid of losing something I don’t even want.

That’s the trap no one talks about.

Not the fear of being broke.

Not the fear of starting over.

But the fear of leaving a life that’s kind of fine.

A life that works.

A life that gets you free wine and high-rise views and approval from strangers who think you’ve made it.

Even if you’re standing there with a tray in your hand wondering how it came to this.

So yeah, I’m stuck in the now. Stuck between comfort and calling.

And all I know is this: I’m not done growing, even if it means giving up what little I’ve got to find something bigger.

Even if it means losing what I don’t want.. So I can make space for what I do.