This is the text I wrote before deciding to move to the United States. We all know to which direction the tilting doll tilted to.
As sure as one minute follows another, February substituted January with an icy wind that messed up hairdos, hats, the skirts of careless girls, leaves of paper and thoughts. What this uninviting wind whispered through the cracks of my windows reminded me of the urgencies of life and made me think of all the changes that will happen once I make my decision. Because I have moved so many times in my life, I cringe at any sort of change. The bigger the change, the more afraid I am. On the other hand, a vestige of good sense ensures me that changes can – generally – turn out to be quite positive. They bring a breath of fresh air and new perspectives. But my stubborn and fearful side gets the best of me and says no, not again. No. Changes again, in this phase of your life when everything seemed to be in its right place? There is no bigger reassurance than opening a drawer and knowing exactly what you are going to find. This is me now, this is the me I want forever. Stability (this great impostor) means everything to minds such as my own. The other side says go, show your guts and immerse yourself. That’s the way you do things, that’s the way you have achieved things in your life. My day, like a tilting doll, swings between the fearful and the fearless. I don’t have much time to make up my mind. Meanwhile, I take a deep breath and go running so I can keep my tilting doll head together.