I have this thing about Chinese. When I love it, I LOVE it. And when I don’t, buy yourself some earplugs, because I am not afraid to express my opinion. Needless to say, I’m always a little reticent to try new places. More often than not, I’m disappointed. So instead of eating Chinese, I dream of the good stuff from where I grew up.
The thing is, my husband doesn’t have my reservations. To him, it’s all more or less the same. He’s happy with whatever, he’d just like something.
So, tonight, I gave in. Called a few friends, got a few recommendations. And gross. Blah. Blah. Blah.Yicky. Picky. Snort.
“I’m sorry I even suggested it,” my husband said.
And then the epiphany came. From my own mouth even: “Well, you never know if you don’t try.”
I know, you’re all probably thinking, ‘Well duh!’
I wonder how many things I’ve not tried because I didn’t want to be disappointed. Learning a new skill. Sending off the next query. Taking risks with my characters. Bidding on that full manuscript critique over at Do The Write Thing. Whatever.
How about you? Is fear of disappointment holding you back?