My comfort zone is cozy and predictable. However, I stepped out of it when my friend begged me to go to a Zumba class.
I showed up in yoga pants and was awed by the other participants who were ____1____ like Olympic gymnasts. I stood in the back row, hoping to blend in. I did not.
The instructor hit play on a speaker and the dancing began. The room exploded into coordinated ____2____. Arms flew. Hips swayed. Feet pounded. And I? I ____3____.
I was always a beat behind every move: when the class moved right, I moved left; when they spun gracefully, I tripped over my dignity. At one point, I was doing something that looked less like Zumba and more like a confused octopus trying to escape a net.
But then something ____4____.
Around song four, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I looked ridiculous. And yet… I was smiling. No one was ____5____ me. The woman next to me who had been flawlessly ____6____ every move even gave me a thumbs-up. It was the oddest form of ____7____ I had received, but it worked.
I ____8____. I laughed. I even pulled off a move that involved dramatic arm waves! By the end of the class, I was sweating, but I had survived. More than that, I had fun.
Leaving the studio, I realized something: the comfort zone is ____9____ what it sounds like: comfortable. But it’s also where your confidence goes to nap forever. You don’t grow there. You don’t learn there.
So, yes, the first time I stepped out of my comfort zone, I also stepped into a version of myself that was ____10____, sillier, and somehow just a little more fabulous.