Another Rodeo

My son Ian is officially a man of the world. Not simply in the “I’ve visited 34 countries” kind of way, but in the “I’ve actually lived in 34 countries” kind of way. Well, maybe not 34, but the list is genuinely impressive: A boy from Kansas heads off to Boston for college. Massachusetts again for an internship. Then… Madrid. Tokyo. Philadelphia. And now Nassau, Bahamas.

Every single one of those moves, Ian did alone.

No partner, no built-in friend group, no safety net of familiar faces. Just Ian and whatever fit in his luggage, landing in a new place and figuring it out.

I talked to him recently, now that he’s settling into Nassau, and I asked him how he was doing with it all. His answer stuck with me: “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

He’s right. And there’s something genuinely profound in that.

Here’s the thing about hard things: they don’t stop being hard. Moving to a new city by yourself is hard the first time, and it’s still hard the fifth time. You still have to learn your way around. You still have to build your routines. You still feel the particular ache of a Saturday afternoon when you don’t quite know what to do or who to call. But Ian has done this enough times to know that the discomfort is temporary. He knows the rhythm. He knows that it gets better, because it always has.

That’s not a small thing to know.

Most of us have areas of our lives where we’re facing something for what feels like the first time. A new job. A career pivot. A relationship ending. A health challenge. In those moments, the unknown can feel overwhelming. But if you’ve ever navigated hard before and come out the other side, you have more wisdom to draw on than you might realize. You know you can do hard things, because you already have.

Some key things that I think matter here:

• Let your past hard moments be evidence, not just memories.  When Ian says, “this isn’t my first rodeo,” he’s not being dismissive of the challenge ahead. He’s using his experience as data. Every move he’s made before is proof that he can figure it out. The discomfort of the early days in Boston didn’t last forever. Neither did they in Tokyo nor Philly. That evidence is real, and it’s worth calling on. Whatever hard thing you’re facing, ask yourself: what have I already gotten through that I wasn’t sure I could? Let that be your anchor.

• Hard things done repeatedly do actually get easier.  There’s a version of resilience that sounds like “you just get tougher.” I don’t love that framing. What I think actually happens is more nuanced: you get more capable. You know what helps. You know what doesn’t. You’ve developed specific skills, and you trust yourself a little more. Ian doesn’t dread the social awkwardness of being new because he’s figured out how to move through it. That’s not toughness for its own sake. That’s earned confidence. Whatever you’re going through, if it’s a recurring challenge, you are building something. Don’t discount that.

• Find your people, and be someone’s people.  In almost every city, Ian had someone who showed up for him. In Boston, in Tokyo, in Philadelphia, there were people who were peripherally connected to him who took him in. They invited him to things. They checked in. They treated him the way you’d hope someone would treat your child when they moved somewhere new and didn’t know anyone. This is one of the most generous things you can do for another human being, and it costs almost nothing.

If you’re new somewhere, give yourself permission to lean into those periphery connections. The friend of a friend. The colleague who mentioned a favorite coffee shop. The neighbor who seems friendly. Don’t wait until you know someone well to let them matter.

And if you’re the established one, the person who already has your routines and your people and your favorite spots? Keep your eyes open. The new person in your orbit might not say they’re out of their element, but there’s a good chance they are. A simple invitation can change someone’s entire experience of a new place.

Ian will figure out Nassau. I have no doubt. He’ll find the coffee shop he likes, the people worth knowing, the rhythm that makes it feel like home. He’s done it before.

And the next time something hard shows up in your life, I hope you can say the same thing he said to me: this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been here before. I know how this goes.

You know more than you think you do.

Happy Networking!