$pent Millennial

Confession. Sometimes I want to crawl into my bed and hide under the covers. I have been feeling that a lot lately- and not just because of the bad head cold I caught right before my birthday or because the gloomy October weather is perfect for hiding out with some scary movies, a warm blanket, and my favorite doggo cuddle buddy. While all those factors add to the temptation, the main driver for my desire to crawl into bed and hide under the covers is a desire for security and comfort. 

A few months ago, I stepped outside my comfort zone. I accepted a new role at a new organization, a role that I have been aspiring to and working toward. The role is very exciting. It is for an organization whose mission and work are meaningful to me and aligns with my personal and professional goals and values. The work itself is work I enjoy and get excited about. The only uncomfortable thing is that it’s new. I’m new. 

Even while being excited about the work, my new role, and my new organization, I find myself thinking back to before. As I rush out the door in the morning or drive through traffic I think back to the leisurely work-from-home days I had at my last job or the 5-minute, bike-friendly commute to the nearby office. While I enjoy my new coworkers and everyone is wonderful to work with- I also still think back to the dynamic of my old office and the rapport I had with my colleagues there, the feeling of being known in a way that I am not yet known at my new place and the feeling of knowing others who I work with. In those moments, I miss the comfort that comes with the known. 

It is that comfort that I miss and that I seek when I want to crawl into bed and hide under the covers. I want to hide from my newness. It’s that unfamiliar feeling of being a beginner again—where every task seems to come with a new learning curve and every conversation feels like a new introduction. I’ve gone from being someone who knew the ins and outs of my old role, who could answer questions with confidence, to someone who has to ask questions, who sometimes feels unsure, and who is still finding my footing.

Being new means I don’t have all the answers yet. I don’t have the established relationships or that instinctual understanding of how everything works. It’s like trying to navigate a new city without a map—exciting but, at times, overwhelming. And while that feeling makes me want to retreat into the safety of what’s known, I also know that this is exactly where growth happens. 

Because, with time, it will become familiar too.

It’s funny how easy it is to forget that I once felt this way in my last role—the same one I now think of with such fondness and comfort. I remember those early days just as clearly, feeling just as uncertain and out of place as I do now. Back then, I didn’t have the established relationships or confidence I eventually built. I had to find my footing there too.

At the time, I felt the same pull to retreat into what was known, to shy away from the steep learning curves and the new dynamics. But just like now, I pushed through, and slowly but surely, that space became familiar and comfortable

I’m realizing that every role, every new chapter, begins like this—with uncertainty, discomfort, and a sense of being an outsider. But just as I did before, I know I will eventually find that same sense of comfort and confidence here. It will take time, patience, and growth, but I’ll get there, one step at a time.

So, I can’t crawl under the covers to hide- at least not mot days. Hiding from the discomfort of being new doesn’t serve me. I have to keep showing up, asking questions, and giving myself permission to not be perfect. I don’t have it all figured out yet, and that’s okay. It’s okay to lean into this period of uncertainty because, with time, it will become familiar too. 

For now, though, I’m still in the thick of it. I’m still feeling the weight of being new and not fully comfortable. There are days when I feel like I’ve got this, and others when I wonder if I ever will. And that’s okay. It’s all part of the process.

Growth doesn’t happen overnight, and I’m learning that it’s the small, sometimes uncomfortable steps forward that eventually lead to real confidence and security.

For now, I’m trusting that with time, just like before, this newness will turn into something familiar, and I’ll look back on these early days with the same sense of accomplishment I now have for my past roles. Until then, I’ll keep pushing forward, one unsure step at a time.