By Ryan Morris
I used to think that loving my wild meant something entirely different than what it actually represents.
At first glance, and hearing about it for the first time, my immediate understanding of the concept was very surface level. My understanding of ‘loving your wild’ was merely embracing all of the wild and crazy things that you engage in and occur in your life. Whether that be going out on a Saturday night until 3 or 4 AM, booking a last-minute spontaneous trip to a place that you have never been before, or doing something that isn’t necessarily characteristic of yourself.
More or less, for some reason I believed that it was having a “fuck it “mentality.
But over the course of the last couple months of learning, growth, making mistakes, navigating old wounds, and learning about myself in ways that I never have before - I learned that my initial understanding of the concept could not be any more inaccurate.
‘Loving My Wild’ has everything to do with my journey: the good, the bad and everything in between.
It is not so much loving the idea of staying out until 4 AM on a Saturday night or booking a last minute trip, but more so embracing the notion to allow yourself to make mistakes. Allowing yourself to set boundaries and giving yourself the grace to know that IT IS OKAY if you happen to cross them. It is okay if I spend too much money on drinks with friends tonight, or if I get mad at something that I shouldn’t. I am the only one judging myself.
No one is perfect. As much as it is portrayed on social media, in the news or on TV.
Mistakes make me who I am, and crossing that boundary is what allows me to grow and challenged myself - it makes me who I am.
Loving my Wild is accepting the parts of myself that I know will be judged. It is laughing at but also loving the high and unattainable standards I set for myself.
Loving my Wild has everything to do with learning why the holidays trigger me and make me angry enough to punch a hole in a wall. It is now knowing I have cried enough, ruined enough relationships, and drank enough beer to help me grow enough to recognize it, understand why it makes me feel such a way, and choosing not to do so.
Loving my Wild is understanding that I am extremely inappropriate, and regardless of how that may come off to other people, I am always going to think a penis joke is funny.
Loving my Wild is stepping out of my comfort zone, and writing this post regardless of how I may feel I could be judged for it.
Loving my Wild is growth. It is deep conversations. It’s inappropriate jokes. It is going to bed at 9PM so you can get rest for work and feeling ‘old’. It is staying out until 3AM the night after that to make up for it. It is forgetting to answer an email even though you refresh it on your phone every 10 minutes.
Loving My Wild is the journey, the growth, and the little voice inside my head that tells me to keep going.