Practicing the Leap
Last night, I was catching up with a friend over dinner when she told me about her recent decision to switch careers, from working in recruitment to joining a data science bootcamp. Given how big of a decision this is, I told her how much I respected the decision, not just to be kind, but because I knew how hard it is to step into that kind of uncertainty.
Her decision resonated with something I’ve been thinking about a lot, but first, I want to acknowledge the weight of what she chose to do. Joining a bootcamp comes with no guarantees. There’s the real risk of not landing a job afterward (especially as an expat), and no certainty that you can go back to your old one. It’s not just a shift in skillset, it’s stepping into a space full of unknowns, with no clear outcome. That’s what made it so striking to me.
These big, uncertain moves don’t just happen out of nowhere. They’re not single moments of boldness, but the result of smaller, quieter choices made over time.
You don’t just wake up one day and make the hard call. You practice it quietly, over time, by listening to yourself, even when it’s inconvenient. If you don’t, then when it really matters, you might not know how.
We often see big shifts like these and call them “brave”, like courage is some lightning bolt that hits you all at once. But I don’t think it works that way. Courage isn’t something you pull out of nowhere when you need it, it’s something you grow into. Like strengthening a muscle, getting used to discomfort builds our ability to act when the moment really matters.
Reflecting on my own past experiences brought this into focus. I remembered a time when I stayed in a situation that felt increasingly out of sync with who I was becoming. It wasn’t easy to admit it, and it took me a while to act on what I already knew deep down. I was holding onto what was familiar, even though it no longer felt right. Eventually, I realized that not making a move was affecting me in ways I didn’t want. Choosing to walk away wasn’t just about ending something, it was about making space for something better aligned.
That’s something I’ve been noticing more clearly: our decisions shape us, even when we don’t realize it. The cost of doing nothing isn’t always obvious, but over time, it can quietly pull us further away from who we really are. When we keep ignoring that small voice inside, it gets harder to hear. But the opposite is true too. When we start to act, even in small ways, on what feels honest and aligned, we start building a quiet kind of inner steadiness. That steadiness is what carries us through bigger choices later.
And even if someone hasn’t practiced this before, it doesn’t mean they can’t start now. It might feel shaky at first, but the very act of trying, that first leap, can become the start of something real. Something that changes how you meet the next moment.
My friend’s decision reminded me that these kinds of choices, choosing growth over familiarity, can have a quiet ripple effect. Her story mirrored parts of my own. And it made me realize how valuable it is to keep showing up for the kind of life that feels true, even when it’s uncomfortable. I don’t want to overstate what this moment was for her, it was her leap, not mine, but witnessing it made me pause and look inward.
Maybe living with conviction doesn’t have to look dramatic. Maybe it’s just about choosing honesty over comfort, one small decision at a time. Until, one day, when the moment comes, the leap doesn’t feel reckless or heroic, it just feels like the next step in something you’ve been quietly practicing all along.