I’m a planner. I finish assignments early, I keep track of everything in a date book, I don’t like surprises. In fact, I hate them. It’s part of who I am. I like knowing what’s going to happen. I like being in control.
During the last week of August I had planned a trip to California for FYF Fest. I had planned how much fun a weekend at a music festival would be and how I’d be beachside eating In-N-Out. I had planned to meet up with all my friends and to enjoy some of my favorite acts with people from tumblr and real life that I loved. Things didn’t go as planned.
I’m not a bold person; I mean obviously, I hate surprises. I don’t like taking risks, but I find myself doing things that everyone else deems bold and risky. My friends asked why I was traveling alone, they told me it was bold traveling to a festival solo, and some said they’d never do it. Even when I had passed through the FYF gates and was hanging with my first set of friends, a girl remarked that she’d never do a festival alone.
So, was I surprised when hours later I was over it? My phone lost service. The port-a-potties ran out of toilet paper and the dust was so thick my boogers had turned black. I started to cry. I was alone in California at a music festival and a guy was pained like a tribal jungle dude was hassling everyone to listen to his band. I just wanted to go home.
It was during that moment I realized I couldn’t plan everything. I had tried to plan this perfect weekend. I had tried to attend a festival and make it seems as fun as a YouTube live stream. I had tried and it failed, big time.
But, here’s the thing - I tried. I tried and failed at attending festivals, but little old me traveled across the country by myself, and I am an anxious person; things don’t come easy for me. And as I was boarding the plane home I realized that I hadn’t really planned at all. What the heck was I thinking when I had thought about this trip?
We can’t plan everything. And even our best laid plans are going to fall apart, and it’s in that moment I realized when everything fell apart that weekend, I learned so much more.
So as I boarded my final flight home and saw a guy in a Surfer Blood shirt, I made my final bold move and told him I loved that band. One hour later when the plane landed we had exchanged numbers and now we’ve been dating. Meeting him was not anything I had planned, but like the rest of my weekend, the unplanned paid off.
We can’t always plan everything and sometimes those bold risks are worth the hassle, the anxiety and the tears, because in the end we may just learn a thing or two about ourselves.