Risk

I studied for five years to be an architect, then practiced for ten. Then I decided to switch careers for the sake of my health. I intuitively knew that I couldn’t sustain a life in the office, working eight hours a day behind a screen.

During my first attempt to leave architecture behind, I went traveling after a breakup and tried to make it as a digital nomad. Things didn’t align timing-wise due to lack of experience and discipline. I couldn’t make the numbers work yet. Then, when I moved my life to Canada in 2018, the easiest way to start earning money was to use my professional background and apply for an architecture job. After sending five applications, I was back in the office within two weeks. But three months in, I felt on the brink of burnout and quit. The bureaucratic Canadian system didn’t suit my nervous system. I felt boxed in by process and paperwork.

I worked for nine months as a food runner in a Spanish tapas restaurant while I was trying to start a business with a friend. Food running barely paid my rent, and it turned out entrepreneurship didn’t really suit me. Money ran out, and I went back into the office. I began a relationship and enjoyed a stable paycheck for about 1.5 years. Then during Covid, I got “terminated without cause,” and it was the best thing that happened to me. I remember feeling a weight drop off my shoulders. At the same time, I was surprised. Almost disoriented.

What was I going to do now?

I suddenly found myself without a paycheck and health benefits, but I also found an opportunity to reinvent myself and my career. I took a risk and went all-in on using the skills I had accumulated by trying out new things. I bought myself an old camera and called myself a photographer for a while. I also started designing websites for small businesses and called myself a web designer. I was confident that I could fake it till I make it. Someone asked me if I could shoot a video of entrepreneurs traveling for work and leisure in the UAE, and I said yes. Before I knew it, I was flying to Dubai with a backpack full of camera gear and calling myself a videographer.

I took risks because I didn’t have much to lose. So what if they didn’t like my work? I would reinvent myself again. But they did like my work, and after one year I was living the dream of a freelancer, traveling across the globe and working with purpose-driven entrepreneurs. I’d wake up in a new city and realize I’d paid rent with my camera. I found my first five clients through word of mouth and a great deal of luck. But then luck ran out, and I had to become a business thinker. And that’s where I failed. I couldn’t find my own clients for months.

So I panicked, and I began applying for regular jobs again. After the pandemic, the world had shifted and people started working differently. This time I decided to only look for remote work.

After 50 resumes and 30 cover letters, I finally got a response in my mailbox. I still work at that company. Remotely.

Risk.

It’s an important four-letter word that has played a big part in my life. I have an interesting relationship with risk. I think my happiness depends on it, but I have a hard time finding the balance of when to take it and when to avoid it. It’s like I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, hoping for an opening where it feels safe to take a risk. Then I realize “safe” and “risk” don’t belong together. Taking risks is always unsafe.

Maybe I’m now in a place where I have to take it once more. “Réculer pour mieux sauter” is a French expression that summarizes my intuition about the current situation I find myself in: take a few steps back to jump farther. When life is getting too easy, something’s gotta give. Do I have to give up on something to get more of the other, more important thing that will push me farther ahead? You cannot have everything in life at the same time, so what is it that I have to give up? And how do I make sure that it doesn’t crumble everything around it as well?

There’s money and there’s love and there’s freedom. I’m lucky to have two of the three right now. For how long? And at what cost?

Risk is an exercise in managing intuition. When the gut says yes, you go for it, and you burn fewer bridges. I respect risk, but I’m aware of its ability to destroy lives too. I sometimes judge people who repeatedly choose safety and security, but I’m often one of those people as well. I think risks are often obstructed by fears. I can feel the next one coming.