Contract Series: Bridge 1
The Leap
There’s a moment in every nurse’s career when preparation ends and movement begins. A point where the textbooks, the budgeting apps, the certifications, the spreadsheets, and the late-night prayers all converge into a single decision:
Do I stay where I am, or do I take a calculated risk and step into the unknown?
For me, that moment came quietly. Not in a dramatic shift change or after a brutal shift, but in the stillness — the kind of stillness where you hear your own restlessness louder than anything around you.
This is the moment I call the leap.
Not the first travel contract.
Not the pay packages.
Not the airport goodbye photos on Instagram.
The leap happens before all of that.
It’s the internal crossing — from stability to uncertainty, from fear to faith, from “I hope this works” to “I’m willing to go for it.”
And if you’re here, reading this series, you’re standing somewhere near your own edge.
So let’s talk about what it actually feels like.
The Restlessness
I don’t know how it starts for most nurses, but for me, the restlessness came in pieces.
Little things at first:
Waking up and hoping to feel excited for work, but never quite getting there.
Standing in the med room between patient rounds, wondering, “Is this really all my career is going to be?”
Feeling a weird mixture of pride and fatigue when coworkers would say, “You’re such a good nurse — you’re going places.”
Going where, exactly? I had no idea.
I didn’t dislike nursing. I loved helping people, loved seeing a patient turn the corner, loved the puzzle-solving and the human moments. But something in me knew I couldn’t stay on that exact patch of ground forever.
I felt like a plant growing in a pot two sizes too small.
And growth either needs space or it needs a break.
The Fear Before the First Step
People talk about travel nursing like it’s a badge of courage, like you just wake up one day and say, “I’m ready to move across the country and work in a hospital I’ve never seen before with no friends or family to support me!”
But that’s not how it feels at all.
Before I signed my first travel contract, I felt:
unqualified
anxious
small
unprepared
unsure if I was making a mistake
And that’s the truth most influencers skip.
Because the leap always comes with fear.
You’re not broken for feeling scared. You’re human.
Every travel nurse you’ve ever met had a moment where they hovered over the “accept” button and wondered if they were about to ruin their life; wondered when they’d see their loved ones again.
The fear isn’t a sign to stop — it’s a sign you’re standing at the edge of something meaningful.
The Breaking Point
Every leap has a breaking point — the specific moment when staying indoors feels worse than stepping outside.
For me, it wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even obvious at the time.
It was after a typical shift.
Nothing traumatic, nothing unusually heavy.
Just… normal.
I sat in my car in the parking lot, hands still smelling faintly of hand sanitizer, and I felt a single, clear conviction rise up:
“If I don’t make a change, I’m going to wake up in ten years in this same parking lot wondering how I lost an entire decade.”
That wasn’t fear. That was clarity.
And clarity, I’m learning, often sounds like God speaking softly — not in thunder, but in alignment.
Preparation Makes the Leap Possible, Not Comfortable
People often think the leap gets easier once you:
have two years’ experience
have ACLS and NIHSS
have saved six months of expenses
have researched contracts
have done everything “right”
But preparation doesn’t eliminate fear, it only removes the excuses and mitigates the risks.
You can be perfectly prepared and still terrified. And that’s okay.
Think of a plane on a runway — no matter how well-built it is, no matter how skilled the pilot, no matter how clear the sky is…
…there’s always a shudder the moment the wheels leave the ground.
That shudder is the leap.
Travel Nursing Isn’t About Travel — It’s About Agency
Money is part of it.
Adventure is part of it.
Freedom is part of it.
But none of those are the core.
Here’s the truth people rarely say out loud:
Travel nursing is about reclaiming agency.
As a staff nurse, you often feel like decisions are made for you — your schedule, your pay, your ratios, your workload, your career timeline.
Travel nursing flips that.
Suddenly, you’re the one choosing:
where to go
how long to stay
what pay you accept
what time off you want
who you want to become
what kind of floor you work on
The leap isn’t about leaving a hospital.
It’s about stepping into a version of yourself that gets to choose.
Faith in the Fog
I don’t sugarcoat this:
My faith was shaky when I first started making big career decisions.
Later in life, I’d come to see how badly I needed God’s guidance in every financial and career choice. But in the early days? I was mostly running on adrenaline and fear. Still, God worked with it — and in it.
Looking back, I can say confidently that God often leads us like this:
He gives enough clarity to take one step.
Then He waits.
And after you take that step, He shows you the next one.
Not the whole staircase. Just the next stair. All we can do is humbly follow the will of God.
Maybe that’s why the leap feels like a foggy morning. You can only see a few feet ahead, but you trust the path continues.
The Internal Dialogue Before You Jump
If you’re close to the leap, your thoughts probably sound something like:
“What if I fail?”
“What if I hate it?”
“What if I’m not good enough?”
“What if I mess up?”
“What if this doesn’t go to plan?”
Here’s the reframe:
“What if staying where you are is the bigger failure?”
“What if you love it?”
“What if you grow 10× faster?”
“What if you surprise yourself?”
“What if God is calling you forward?”
One of these sets leads to regret.
The other leads to possibility.
The Moment You Decide
You’ll know it when it hits.
It’s not the moment you apply to travel agencies.
It’s not the moment you talk to recruiters.
And it’s not the moment you sign the contract.
The leap happens privately — long before the logistics.
It’s the moment you stop identifying as
“I’m just a new nurse…”
or
“I’m just stuck…”
or
“I’m just surviving…”
and start believing
“I’m capable of growth. I’m willing to try. I’m ready to make sacrifices and move.”
The leap is identity before action.
The Lesson
Every big shift in life begins with a tiny, terrifying yes.
Not a perfect plan.
Not full confidence.
Not total clarity.
Just a yes to a calculated risk.
You don’t leap because you’re fearless.
You leap because the calling is stronger than the fear and staying stuck is worse than the alternative.
Reflection
Maybe God doesn’t give us clarity before the jump because the trust is the clarity.
Maybe the fear is the doorway.
Maybe the fog is the protection.
Maybe the leap is the only way to become who you’re becoming.
Wherever you are right now — on the edge, stuck in the middle, or looking backward at your first jump — just know this:
You don’t leap alone.
This entire series — and this entire career path — begins with that first step.
Take it.
Leap.