Michelle laughing at some pretty messy bedhead

How Big is Your Comfort Zone

As you can probably tell, I have a pretty large comfort zone. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I saw the border of my comfort zone. Yeah – it’s that big.

But it wasn’t always so.

When I was a child I had the comfort zone the size of a postage stamp. I had to stand on it on one toe, like an uncoordinated ballerina trying to learn to go on pointe – and failing miserably.

Canada stamp showing the Orchestre Symphonique de Quebec
Like this stamp that includes my great great grandfather, Joseph Vezina, who you see in the first row with the conductor’s baton.

I was timid and shy. I was afraid of everything.

Then one day I decided to do something uncomfortable. I ran for 8th grade student council secretary. It didn’t occur to me that I might not win. I have no idea where that hubris came from. I figured, at that point, that I had just as good a chance as anybody else. I made posters. I gave a speech. I’d like to say I shook hands and kissed babies…but hey, I was only 13.

And something amazing happened. I lost the election. I mean, I cataclysmically lost that election. I had fewer supporters than New Coke. And I was less popular than a sweater at a bikini convention.

So how was that amazing, you ask? It was amazing because I learned that I could step outside of my comfort zone, lose…and still be breathing. Still go to school every day. Still be me. That may seem like a huge life revelation for a shy young girl…and really it’s only in hindsight that I am able to articulate it. But it had changed me. After that, instead of a postage stamp…I could put my foot down on the whole envelope.

And it didn’t end there.

I took another step and tried out for the marching band. Another step and I was auditioning for plays in high school. Another step and I was applying for a job. And college. Singing in front of hundreds of people. Giving speeches in public.

concentric circles
Picture a postage stamp in the middle, and the universe on the outside.

What I learned is that comfort zones are like concentric circles. A step outside doesn’t just stretch the zone to fit that footstep…it increases it exponentially. Where before you had a three-foot circle, now you have a five-foot circle, then an eight, then before you know it – you can’t see the edge of the zone because it’s so big.

I recently saw the “selfie of all selfies” where a travel blogger took his pic from atop the Christ the Redeemer statue in Brazil. He was so high up that you could see the curvature of the earth. Now that’s a comfort zone.

Some people aren’t comfortable being seen without hair and makeup. Or nice clothes. Me? I think there are more important things in the world.

I have a bedhead comfort zone. And you can’t see that from a statue.

Your bedheaded blogger,
Michelle

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