Have you ever wanted something so bad…but know that everyone might think you have absolutely lost your mind? Sadly (or not….HA!) that is NOT a foreign experience for me. I have never really considered myself to be gutsy or bold. I still don’t see myself that way. I am a true Taurus (if you believe in that sort of thing) … stubborn and bull-headed to a fault. But bold? No. I’m emotional, dramatic, and perhaps a bit shy until you get to know me. But not bold. However, as I look back on the last 30 years of my life, I see nothing but a string of bold decisions. Does boldness lead to regret? Of course! At least occasionally…however you never really know what can come of anything without taking a leap now and then!

Take my choice of college. I grew up in the small town of Hockessin, Delaware. Growing up, my family moved around a bit, but we settled there and remained when I started sixth grade. As I started exploring my options for college, I found myself gravitating towards a small Christian college in Holland, Michigan called Hope College. In high school, I was a good student and a three-season varsity athlete involved in many extracurricular activities. While I would have considered myself a person of faith, my background was Catholic, and a small, private Christian college was not the school most would have expected for me. I had never set foot in the state of Michigan, yet I applied. Not only did I apply, but I put all my eggs in one basket. I didn’t even bother applying to another school. It never dawned on me this was a risky move. People thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. I knew it was the right move for me at the time. And I’ve never regretted it.

Fast forward a few years. I left college early to become the daytime caretaker of my equally bold 92-year-old grandmother. Since I was with her during the day, I worked at some popular local restaurants and bars by night. I was just your average twenty-something, enjoying life. Then came the tragic events of September 11, 2001. That day changed my life, and I often refer to it as the hardest day to be grateful for. I refer to it that way because of the positive things that came to my life that never would have occurred if it had not been for those tragic events. While military service had never been a consideration for me, I knew I was going to enlist. I went through the entire process and didn’t even tell my family until after I had signed on the dotted line. At 25 years old, I enlisted in the U.S. Navy. People thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. I knew it was the right move for me at the time. And I’ve never regretted it.

A few short months later, on my 26th birthday, at a dive bar just off base, I met a guy. My busty roommate met him actually. I couldn’t stand my roommate. She was petite and had big breasts and a fake southern accent. And she wasn’t a particularly nice person. She had been in my sister division and lived in my berthing throughout boot camp, so I had gotten to know her all too well in the prior months. Then we were put together as roommates in school following boot camp. A group of friends had planned on going out for my birthday, but after spending a cold rainy day at the nearby Six Flags theme park, everyone decided to cancel our party plans. Except for the one person I didn’t particularly care to go out with. She had this annoying way of getting guys to do anything and everything for her. It irked me severely. But here we were, on my first birthday away from home, and she was the only one. Ugh. So out we went. At the bar, she picked up this guy. I didn’t pay much attention to them…anyone drawn to her shallowness wasn’t worth my time. I was cordial, but nothing more. Then at the end of the night, an amazing thing happened. This guy walked us “home” to the barracks. Once we got there, he quickly said goodnight and abruptly walked away. Instantly, my interest was peaked. I had never seen anyone just walk away from her. She was accustomed to having guys fawn over her…buying her dinners, presents, etc. I could see how stunned she was. He hadn’t even asked for her phone number. That moment made my night. Suddenly, this guy who I hadn’t paid much attention to seemed a great deal more interesting. But he was gone.

I didn’t see him again for another month. Once I did, I asked him what happened that night. He told me he realized how shallow she was. We started spending more time together and soon began dating. A mere two months later, he asked me to marry him. Without thinking, I said yes. Then we spent the next month arguing about how stupid that would be. Anyone who has served in the military is probably familiar with this phenomena…boot camp love. It is where people who are in (or recently completed) boot camp inexplicably decide they have met the loves of their lives and must get married. In most cases, these folks are young and have never been away from home. Brian and I didn’t meet those standards. We were both 26. He was not a recent boot camp graduate…in fact, he had served four years in the Navy and was there for a new training school. After arguing about how irrational the decision to marry was, we realized we couldn’t fight it any longer. We both knew it was the right decision for us. I called my family and let them know that I would be getting married the following day by the local Justice of the Peace. They didn’t even know I was dating anyone. The day after we were married, Brian was transferred overseas to Italy. We spent the first year of our marriage on different continents. I did get to visit him for two weeks at Christmas. Before we got married, we had discussed children and both knew we were ready. We placed it in God’s hands and figured with such a small window of opportunity, if I got pregnant during my two weeks in Italy, it was meant to be. Sure enough, I became pregnant. By pure fate/karma/kismet, I was lucky enough to be stationed with him on the same tiny island of La Maddalena, Italy. I arrived (quite pregnant) in July 2003. Our first child arrived three months later. People thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. I knew it was the right move for me at the time. And I’ve never regretted it.

Fast forward another nine years and my Navy career had progressed impressively. I achieved the rank of Chief Petty Officer in that short time, which is a rare feat. I loved my job and my career. But due to a combination of circumstances at the time, I felt it might be prudent to leave the military behind. It was a difficult decision, but after planting the seed in Brian’s head, we started to get excited about what other options our lives might have in store for us and our three daughters. We considered several extreme options…from transferring to the Navy in New Zealand to having a wild adventure in Alaska. Both of us had always felt drawn to Alaska, and the timing seemed exactly right. After a great deal of research, we decided it was Alaska or bust! I was going to leave the Navy just prior to my twelve-year mark, despite a promising future. But we knew the decision was right for us. My family – the same ones who were shocked when I told them I had enlisted after the terrorist attacks – now couldn’t believe I was walking away. It didn’t make sense to them. They thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. I knew it was the right move for me at the time. And I’ve never regretted it.

Clearly, a pattern emerged in my life. While I know that my decisions have not necessarily always been conventional, I’ve never found them to be outlandish. I don’t even necessarily consider them to be bold. Yet those around me tend to think I’m nuts. Why? I guess because I am willing to take risks. I will be honest. There have been plenty of times I have questioned my decisions in my life. But these big, life-changing decisions? I have never once questioned them. I trusted my gut. I feel like there is not enough of that in our society anymore. Certainly, I have experienced failures. But you must experience those failures to reap the ultimate benefits. I recall speaking to my dad about one of my decisions and I could hear the irrationality of it all in his voice. I don’t think I can justify my decision enough for my family to understand. I feel bad because I don’t want them to worry or be concerned. You would think that after thirty years of irrational decisions on my part that have been successful, they would be used to it. But they clearly aren’t.

At the end of the day, while others may not understand it, I stand by my seemingly “crazy” decisions. They may question my sanity. I think outside of the box. I’m not ashamed of that. It saddens me that more people don’t have the guts to make big, bold decisions like I have throughout my life. I don’t feel that I’m a maverick or a trend-setter. Honestly, I’m just living my best life and people think I’m crazy. But I don’t care. I know it is the right move for me at this time. And I’ll never regret it.

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