The Cruise Ship Dream

I used to lie in bed imagining myself working on a cruise ship even though the closest I’d ever been to the ocean was the seafood aisle at the grocery store. I’d picture myself standing dramatically at the railing like I was in a movie, hair blowing in the wind, looking mysterious and important. In reality my hair would probably be slapping me in the face but the dream was cute.

Back then the idea felt huge. Too huge. Like something meant for people who had their lives together and didn’t lose their keys twice a week. I kept telling myself I’d do it someday which is basically code for “I’m scared but pretending I’m not.”

Then one day I just snapped. In a good way. I filled out the application, sent it in and immediately questioned every life choice that led me to that moment. But somehow, I got the job. And suddenly I was stepping onto a ship that was bigger than my entire neighbourhood wondering if they’d made a mistake hiring me.

Spoiler: they didn’t.

Now I wake up to sunrises that look like they were painted by someone who was showing off. I meet people from everywhere. I work, I laugh, I get lost on the ship at least twice a week because apparently my sense of direction didn’t come with me. But every now and then I stop and think

This is the life I used to dream about.

I’m not waiting for someday anymore. I’m living in the moment now on a floating city that carries me from one horizon to the next. And every time I step outside and feel the ocean breeze, I remember that the dream wasn’t too big. I just needed to stop doubting myself long enough to chase it.

Funny how the thing that once felt impossible is now my everyday life. And honestly, love every chaotic beautiful second of it.