Every time I share my latest grand plan with her, my friend starts laughing. Not just a polite chuckle, but the kind of laughter that brings tears to her eyes and leaves her holding her stomach. She knows me too well. From enthusiastically signing up for long walks months in advance, to quietly questioning my life choices when the day finally arrives. Twenty kilometers? In the evening? With colleagues? In my precious free weekend? What was I thinking?
The beginning is always brilliant
I am very good at beginnings. Truly. Give me a new idea, a fresh plan, or a slightly unrealistic goal, and I am all in. Fully committed. Motivated. Convinced that this time, this will be the thing. Like the time I decided I was going to learn fluent Spanish. I announced it with confidence, maybe even a little flair. She nearly fell off her chair laughing. Now, every time I start something new, she looks at me and says, “Claro, muy bien,” with just enough sarcasm to keep me grounded.
DJ dreams and festival fantasies
Then there was the DJ course. Yes, that really happened. In my mind, I was one step away from performing at a festival, effortlessly mixing tracks while a crowd cheered. My friend, of course, had a slightly different image. “DJ Toptalent in the house!” she would say, probably picturing me enthusiastically pressing buttons without any real idea of what I was doing. To be fair, she does appreciate my festival energy. That version of me, she fully supports. One of my many unexpected sides, as she likes to call them.
The short lived artist phase
My artistic ambitions were another highlight. I decided I would learn to draw. Properly this time. I signed up for classes, showed up with determination, and left with… well, something that loosely resembled effort. “Miss Picasso,” she called me, “who quit after lesson three?” The teacher and I were clearly not a match, and my drawings did not exactly suggest hidden genius waiting to be discovered. She looked at my latest creation, smiled, and gently confirmed what we both already knew. Maybe not my strongest talent.
The photographer who keeps pausing
Photography is a slightly different story. This is one of those passions I truly feel. I dive into it, take courses, learn about light, composition, settings. And I finish them. Every time. Fully committed. Focused. Determined to finally master it. And then, somehow, my camera ends up back on the shelf. Waiting. Patiently. As if it knows I will come back eventually. My motivation, however, tends to dissolve somewhere between finishing the course and actually continuing on my own. It is as if my discipline is made of whipped cream. Soft, promising, but not exactly reliable. Still, the passion never fully disappears. It lingers, quietly waiting for the next spark.
A list of all my big plans
I am fairly certain she keeps a mental list of all my ideas. Possibly even a written one. New studies, new hobbies, new directions. “Another study?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Just this one,” I reply, completely serious. She laughs. “I have known you longer than today,” she says. And honestly, she is usually right.
The laughter that comes from love
The best part is that she is not laughing at me. She is laughing because she genuinely enjoys watching me dive headfirst into something new every single time. She sees the enthusiasm. The excitement. The way I allow myself to try, even if I do not always finish what I start. “At least you are never bored,” she says with a wink. “And I always have something to laugh about.”
The friend who keeps me growing
Despite all the laughter, she is also the one who pushes me forward. Especially when it comes to learning and personal growth, she is my biggest supporter. She encourages me to keep going, to keep trying, to stay curious. Even when I change direction halfway through. I value her honesty, her perspective, and the way she manages to balance humor with genuine support.
The beauty of trying anyway
And so I continue. New plans, new ideas, new adventures. Some of them last. Some of them fade. But all of them start with the same spark. And she is always there. Laughing, encouraging, reminding me of who I am. Because maybe that is the point. Not to get everything right, or to finish every plan perfectly. But to keep trying. To stay open. To allow yourself to explore, even if it is a little chaotic along the way.
A life full of attempts and laughter
Because what is life without a bit of impulsiveness? Without trying things that might not work out? Without someone next to you who sees it all and still cheers you on? Her laughter does not stop me. If anything, it makes every new attempt more fun. And her support makes it easier to start again, every single time.
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