Venturing Outside Your Comfort Zone (When You’re Risk Averse)

It’s scary to take a leap, but not as scary as facing big regrets.

Lauren’s view as she ponders venturing into the great unknown before working on her WIP.

Hey WGC,

Do you define yourself as a risk taker or risk averse? I, Lauren, firmly fall in the latter category, and in many ways it’s served me well.

Except when it hasn’t.

When I was in college one of my dreams was to do a semester abroad. And it was hardly out of reach. My university offered a study abroad program, but I didn’t even apply. I told myself it was something other people did. Braver people. People whose parents approved of the idea and who had a higher threshold for embracing the inevitable embarrassing missteps of a language barrier.

Not too long after, my then-boyfriend/now-husband and I lost our jobs. (Remember the good-ol’ days of the Great Recession?) It was the perfect time to move overseas, a dream we shared. We were young, we had savings and few responsibilities, and the job market was abysmal. But we needed to be cautious and find work before our health insurance ran out. We had to hold onto our rent-controlled apartment. We weren’t the adventurous type. So, we stayed and played it safe.

I have a smattering of collected regrets. Things I’ve said I shouldn’t have, ways I’ve behaved when I could have done better. But these moments I’ve made peace with by apologizing, by choosing a different path in the future. There’s nothing I regret more than the times I chose fear over opportunity—to stay home rather than to spread my wings.

Writing and publishing my first book felt very much like the latter. A great big leap with no guarantee of a net. Aside from having children (perhaps the biggest leap of all!), it’s the thing I take the most pride in. And yet, as I’ve gained experience, I’ve begun to worry I’m playing it a little too safe in my writing, too, holding myself back from ideas and experimentation I’m excited about because that risk-averse part wants to keep me safe.

But time has taught me to fear regret more than failure.

Stepping outside your comfort zone requires considering new angles.

I made a point to stretch myself this year, and my new WIP has pushed me way out of my comfort zone: from craft (it technically has six POVs and two timelines) to content (it’s thematically heavier and more complicated than anything I’ve done before) to the trajectory of my career (I’ll be following in Erin’s footsteps and querying again). When I think about any one of these things, let alone all of them, I start to panic. Who do I think I am? Am I asking for disaster? After all, the higher the leap, the greater the fall.

Or… perhaps, the better the view?

It’s terrifying to travel outside our comfort zones. So much opportunity for rejection. For discomfort. For humiliation. But until we’re willing to step over the border between safety and fear, cross proverbial oceans and climb metaphorical mountains, our dreams remain painful if onlys.

I still intend to live out of the country one day—it’s never too late, right?—but in the meantime, I’m letting my creative spirit venture forth, despite the real risk my words might be lost in translation.

Let’s take it to the group: Where do you fall on the risk-taking to risk-averse spectrum? What are the ways you’ve pushed yourself from your comfort zone in your career? How do you leap when you’re scared?

Erin: In my youth, I was a big dreamer and quite the risk-taker. I skydived when I was 19, moved to New York City from Missouri after college graduation with no job, then, after establishing myself at magazines in NYC, I moved to Austin at 28, again with no job. (Sensing a pattern here?) My solid relationship with my parents and the fact that I started my career with no debt allowed me to know that if I leaped and ever flailed, I could call them for help. (They are wonderful parents, and I realize the privilege in that.) I also know that I'm a worker bee and will do anything I can to make sure I accomplish my goals. It took me a year to the day of moving to New York to get an editorial assistant job at Allure. And during that year, I worked at Pier 1 Imports, interned at Redbook, and worked as a long-term temp in the photo department at Forbes. And I've always freelanced in between editor jobs.

Now that I’m older, I’m no longer as much of a risk taker in my career. Things are different now that my decisions don’t only affect me—but my family, too. And while I love writing books and would happily do it full-time, it feels like there are too many things authors can’t control—sales, marketing, etc. (Also, to be completely honest, I’m totally freaked out by AI and the current economy, so taking a career leap right now feels scarier than ever before!) But, I am still a big dreamer and watching the authors around me hit the USA Today list, get optioned, and write TV shows and movies is great inspiration to keep dreaming bigger.

For the best view, you have to be willing to take the higher leap.

Amy: I’ve historically been a risk taker, and I actually took many of the same leaps as Erin in my youth (lived in various parts of the world, made major moves sometimes without jobs yet in place, skydiving, check check check), but I would qualify my current risk taking as “calculated.” I am a firm believer in betting on myself, and like Erin, I know that I will do whatever it takes to make it work.

While working on my debut, I posted about my writing journey for years on my Instagram long before I had an agent or book deal (you can scroll back, those early posts are all still there), a very vulnerable thing to do when any glimmer of external success was a hope for the future and very far from my reality. It held me accountable and helped me to claim the identity of “writer” long before I had any official stamp of approval. (PSA: you’re a writer when you call yourself one and you actually do the thing, no official stamp needed.) When I got stuck many drafts in and was facing countless rejections from agents, I hired freelance editors to help me navigate my way to the next draft, an expense that was never guaranteed to make a cent in return. But I considered it an investment in my future and believed I’d make the money back. Failure was not an option, and I wasn’t afraid to be caught trying or worried that others would think it was taking too long (another PSA: no one else is keeping track).

I like pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I like watching myself grow and accomplishing things I hadn’t previously been able to do. For book two, I am pushing myself again into new terrain, but I feel safe in the risk because I know I will always do whatever I can (of the parts within my control) to get to where I want to go. There’s no guarantee, of course, but what would be the fun in that?

Hadley: I’m more like Lauren, in that I’m not at all a natural risk-taker. I don’t like rollercoasters, I’ve never had the slightest interest in skydiving, and when given a choice between safety and adventure, I’d much rather take the safer, more well-trodden path. But I’ve learned to not always listen to my cautious inner voice, because I know I can’t grow if I don’t take risks.

Because my natural tendency is to play it safe, I try to follow the mantra “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” For example, after graduating from medical school, I knew in my heart that becoming a doctor wasn’t actually how I wanted to spend my life, but it was terrifying to even consider abandoning such a stable, established career path. In the end, I took the leap and chose a program in science and medical writing instead of a medical residency—a decision I’ve been grateful for ever since.

Starting to write fiction felt like another big leap of faith, and I spent the entire year before publishing my debut in a constant state of anxiety. For me, avoidance of risk-taking is all wrapped up in perfectionism: I don’t want to take a chance because I might not get it right the first time. But the more I push myself to be vulnerable despite the fears, the easier it gets. And when I feel unsure, I often think of this Mary Oliver quote: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

No matter how much my inner scaredy cat wants to stay in her cave, I’m determined to live my one precious life to the fullest—which means taking risks and dreaming big.

Tell us: Are you a risk taker a la Erin and Amy? Or do you trend toward playing it safe like Lauren and Hadley? How have you ventured outside your comfort zone? And if you’re considering a leap, let us know so we can send you encouragement!