When staying comfortable feels riskier than change

This week, I’m starting a new chapter: I’m trading my hard-won work life balance for the messy and chaotic life of law school while working full time.

In deciding whether or not to study, I had to question the values that guide my life, purpose and priorities. Dramatic, I know, but that’s the joy of coming from a line of storytellers and poets: every decision feels existential.

So far, my biggest choices have been guided by three values: learning, adventure, and long-term purpose over short-term comfort. These have uprooted me more than once, pushing me to move countries, switch careers, and reshape relationships to fit my ambitions.

Through the highs and lows of chasing goals, I have found myself growing more content. I hadn’t expected how much comfort and connection would morphe my values. Where my early career was defined by a happy detachment from people, places and things, my life now is full of love and meaning in every experience.

Why would I want to change a life I love? Happiness and connection changed my very definition of ambition, I stopped wanting to move forward for my goals and instead wanted to live my life more deeply.

For me, that means finding work-life balance, studying Spanish, dancing, reading endless fiction, and spending hours yapping with people I love. It almost feels indulgent to say I’ve been focusing on being happy and well, when inequality grows and social injustices are normalised.

So there lies the tension that has forced me to lean into change: I’ve grown to love the life I’m living, but my desire to be a more capable advocate for social justice is stronger.

Formal education may or may not help me become a better advocate. I’ll have to sacrifice some work-life balance and delay personal goals. I detest classroom learning, so I’ll likely feel drained and frustrated.

Yet sticking to self-learning and on-the-job experience definitely won’t give me the capabilities I want. While I’m happy now, I know myself enough to know the weight of inaction would eventually make me deeply unhappy.

Giving up parts of my current lifestyle for the chance to grow feels less risky than staying comfortable and chugging along.

This risk was enough to make me apply to law school, but not enough to accept my offer straight away. I couldn’t just accept that studying would make me unhappy; I had to reframe it so it felt right for me.

Instead of only asking what study could do for my goals, I started asking why I might study for the sake of study.

War, upheaval and family responsibilities meant many in my family never had the education I have. They sacrificed so their kids could have more. How lucky am I to be living what they dreamed of?

Around the world, people still fight to keep women from gaining education, whether through benevolent misogyny or fear that equality will flip the power. How lucky am I to be proof that they can’t win?

Thanks to HECS, public healthcare and a social safety net, living in Australia means I can risk studying, fail, and still land on my feet. How lucky am I to be proof that safety nets matter?

Studying just for a career isn’t worth it. Studying for the sake of learning, and all it means to me, is.

I’m equal parts nervous and hopeful for the change that’s coming. Wish me luck — and if you’ve ever had to risk comfort to live by your values, I’d love to hear your story too.