I have been terrified, fragile, vulnerable and overwhelmed.
And it’s been the best time of my life.
When you are young, the entire world incites you to follow your dreams. Your parents goad you with the prospect of being “anything you want to be,” and dedicated teachers rouse you to pick your career out like you would a pair of jeans. Want a slim-cut low rise in the dark wash? Right this way. You want to be a magazine editor? Why, certainly—go right ahead.
But as we age, we’re faced with more incentives to play it safe than risk everything to take a chance—even if it’s a chance on yourself. Especially if it’s a chance on yourself.
Once upon a “Good Night Moon,” I wanted to start a magazine. The possibility of that goal felt as close as those stick-on, glow-in-the-dark stars on the celling. I grew up reciting lines from “The Road Less Traveled” and vowed to wander that path even if it meant becoming a struggling artist—which, at the time seemed bohemian and romantic.
My first memories of writing were with my father, nuzzled under the span his arm while I scribbled premature thoughts and stories onto thick, textured notebook paper. He compelled me to appreciate the value of words and their enduring power.
When he died—before I even reached puberty—I was re-dedicated to the written word. Inking down every truth I saw in the world, I knew with absolute certainty that he could still read those words even though he was gone. And by the time I left for college, I had amassed a lifetime of articles and stories—all of them letters to the man I missed.
A degree in magazine journalism was the logical next step, but I graduated just as the print industry began to take a nosedive. I fought tooth-and-nail for a byline, clip and position, but I made compromises along the way. I played it safe.
You see, it’s quite simple to make amendments to a dream so life can be easier. I never moved to New York to take on the heart of the publishing world, and I stayed in stagnant jobs too long because they proved to be comfortable and safe. Before I knew it, when I wasn’t even looking, my dream dissolved. Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.
I made a living. I had an amazing husband, a great house and fantastic friends. I read the obligatory self-health books and watched E! News. I attended parties and saw the latest moves. Life was cozy, secure and simple enough to be protected from risky pipe-dreams.
As for my career, the articles I wrote were not what I ultimately wanted to say—so what? The people I profiled, weren’t the stories I was dying to tell—who cares? No wonder life lost it’s thick, textured luster. Goodnight passion, goodnight flair, goodnight purpose everywhere.
I wrote for everyone else until I had nothing more to say for them. The ink dried up, my pages were empty and I was angry. Pissed, in fact. Not at my employers, family or trusty self-help authors—I was furious with the girl who scribbled with her dad and wished on those ceiling stars. How could she have given up on me?
I craved ideas and innovation, rebellion and risk. I wanted to take a chance and be afraid, because it’s a blessing to have so much to lose. I needed something worth being terrified for.
Out of the spark, the rage, the struggle, the panic, I hurtled myself over the edge of reason and walked away from the settlement I had made with my life. I considered the status-quo null and void. As a matter of fact, I do want the denim in slim-cut low rise and dark wash—ring it up.
I left my job, my steady paycheck and my comfort zone to launch Eidé Magazine. I put my truth out there for all to read and found that the stories and vision I brought to life—Eidé—had a vitality of it’s very own. Trudging through the road less travelled took me someplace where there are others like me, those sated only by a commitment to challenging the direction of their lives.
They, too, have been terrified, fragile, vulnerable, overwhelmed and exhilarated.
And they tell me, with absolute certainty, that my father can read every issue.
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Tova Gelfond is the Editor-in-Chief and founder of Eidé Magazine. Follow her on twitter here and Eidé here.
