Tonight, my dad texted me about some apprenticeships going up north.
On paper, it was the kind of thing I used to want health physics, stable job, good pay, a “sensible” move.

But the second I read it, my first thought wasn’t excitement. It was: “I’d rather die.“

That might sound extreme, but it was an instant gut reaction. My chest tightened, tears welled up, and it was like my whole body remembered something my brain had tried to move on from.

Because the truth is, moving back up north doesn’t just mean moving towns. It means stepping back into a version of me I fought hard to leave behind.

Remembering Who I Was Back Then

When I lived up north, I was constantly anxious and depressed.
I felt like nobody really liked me, like I didn’t fit in anywhere. I was always pretending to be someone I wasn’t just to get by.

It wasn’t just uncomfortable it was soul-crushing. I lived in survival mode.
Every day felt like I had to wear a mask.

And the thought of slipping into that skin again? Unbearable.

So when my dad mentioned going back, my nervous system lit up like an alarm. It wasn’t about the apprenticeship itself it was about everything that place represents to me.

My Dad’s Point of View

Here’s the thing: my dad wasn’t being cruel. He wants the best for me.

When I said I’d rather die than go back, I followed it up with: “Maybe I’ll reconsider in a few months.”
And his reply was simple: “Well, you can’t reconsider, it’ll be closed.”

He wasn’t wrong. Opportunities don’t stay open forever. Apprenticeships have deadlines. Parents think practically. They want us to have security, good jobs, stable lives.

But here’s where we clashed: he was looking at the opportunity. I was feeling the weight of the place.

To him, it was an option worth considering.
To me, it was a door back into a cage I’d already broken free from.

That’s why I ended up shouting at him about it the other day. Not because I hate him, but because he touched a nerve one that runs deeper than anyone could see.

Who I Am Now at 20

The thing is, I’m not that version of me anymore.

I’m 20 now. I’ve built a completely different life.

Right now, I am focusing on myself not only struggling to find out what I want to do, but emotionally make myself a better person.

The person I want to become.

I have a job that I love at the moment. Is it my forever job. Hard to say. But right now it gives me joy, just like many people crave from their jobs. I have it. So I take pride in saying “I love my job”

Everything starts to make sense in my brain after I began journaling, I started this a few years ago and I do this every day now. It makes me feel at peace and like a lot of people I enjoy feeling content with my life.

I heard recently in a podcast, that the decade of your 20’s is the loneliest and scariest period as nothing is certain: friends, career, love, finances, nothing and the brain doesn’t like that and associates it with danger.

And maybe that health physics apprenticeship would be good for me. In another time, another version of my life, I might even want it. But right now? My gut says no.

And here’s what I’ve learned: when your body screams that loudly, you listen.

The Difference Between Fear and Wisdom

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that not all gut reactions are the same.

• Sometimes, your gut is fear talking. Fear of failure. Fear of being judged. Fear of stepping up.
• But sometimes, your gut is wisdom talking. It’s your body remembering what broke you before. It’s your nervous system saying: this isn’t safe for us.

The trick is to learn the difference.

Mel Robbins always says: “You’re never going to feel ready.” And she’s right. Most opportunities in life will feel uncomfortable. Growth isn’t supposed to feel easy.

But there’s a huge difference between the discomfort of growth and the suffocation of going backwards.

When something makes you feel nervous but excited? That’s growth.
When something makes you feel like dying inside? That’s your soul saying: not this way.

Listening to Yourself Without Guilt

Saying no doesn’t make you lazy. It doesn’t make you ungrateful. And it doesn’t mean you’ll never get another chance.

It means you’re trusting yourself.

And yes, sometimes saying no means you’ll miss out on opportunities. The apprenticeship will close. Another person will take the spot. That door won’t be there forever.

But if it’s not the right door for you, what are you really missing?

This is where I love what Mel Robbins says: “A ‘no’ is a full sentence.” You don’t need to justify it to anyone.

Sometimes, saying no is the most powerful way of saying yes to yourself, to your peace, to the version of you you’ve worked so hard to become.

Moving Forwards, Not Backwards

So here’s where I stand: I’m not moving back up north. Not now. Maybe not ever.

And yes, that means I’ll miss the apprenticeship. Yes, it means my dad might not fully understand. Yes, it means people might think I’m making a mistake.

But I know this much: I’ve built a new life for myself. I’m earning, learning, and becoming someone I’m proud of.

And if one door closes? I’ll build another one.

Because I’m not going backwards. I’m moving forwards even if it doesn’t look like the “safe” option on paper.

Your Turn

We all have places, people, or versions of ourselves that carry heavy memories. For me, it’s up north. For you, it might be a job, a relationship, or a group of friends you’ve outgrown.

Here’s my challenge to you:

• Think about the thing in your life that feels like going backwards.
• Ask yourself honestly: is this discomfort the stretch of growth, or the suffocation of going back to who I used to be?
• And if the answer is that it feels like death inside… give yourself permission to say no.

Because you don’t need to go back to an old version of you just because the opportunity looks good on paper. You get to decide your life.

And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is close a door, so you’re free to build the one that’s actually meant for you.

Remember, it all starts with self love

-M