Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is the only comic book movie I’ve seen so far that made me want to read the comic it was based on. And the part that made this movie is the famous scene where Miles officially becomes Spider-Man.
It begins with the lyrics to Black Caviar and Blackway’s What’s Up Danger. Miles goes to Aunt May’s house for the proper equipment, and she meets him in the secret room. A montage depicts him suiting up, moving through the city for the perfect spot, staring down at the streets below. The background music swells as we hear the voices of Miles’ family cheering him on.
“I see this spark in you, it’s amazing. Whatever you choose to do with it, you’ll be great.”
“Our family doesn’t run from things.”
“You’re the best of all of us, Miles. You’re on your way.”
We pan up to Miles’ face as he asks himself the crucial question:
“When do I know I’m Spider-Man?”
And as Miles readies himself, we hear Peter B. Parker’s response:
“You won’t. That’s all it is, Miles…a leap of faith.”
Miles leaps. The glass breaks under his fingertips, as though a part of him is still clinging to the safety net. But he takes the leap anyway. What’s Up Danger picks up again as he falls. The scene slows. We cut to the best shot of the movie–Miles, suited up, surrounded by the city, the camera upside down. The screenplay says at this moment, Miles isn’t falling; he’s rising.
I’ve recently learned that stepping into the life you want and becoming the person you want to be always requires a leap of faith. There are several things that could go wrong once you take that leap. But the alternative is never living at all. So if you want to find what you’re looking for, it’s worth acknowledging what’s stopping you and then trying anyway.
Finding a Job
As much as I would love to write full time, I don’t have the financial stability to do that at this point in my life. I’ve been working at a bank the last few years to help pay the bills. And it’s not the worst job I’ve ever had. The wages pay the rent, the team I work with is decent, and free food is a frequent occurrence. But for me, it’s just a job. The work I’m doing is not work I’m passionate about, and I don’t see myself ever moving up the ladder at this bank or any other.
That just begs the question: what else can I do?
I’ve thought about working in a publishing company for years, but the more I learned about the industry the more I realized I didn’t want to be part of it. I enjoyed the work I did at the college library, but if I wanted to continue that I’d have to go to grad school for a degree in library science. I’ve gone back and forth in my mind about a variety of things. The one I go back to most frequently is editing. The thought of getting to look at another author’s work and helping them improve on it makes me smile.
But therein lies two problems. One, the road to becoming an editor is a long one. I’d have to be willing to take different jobs along the way, which means no stability for me any time soon. And two, no matter how long it would take me to get there, it would always begin with putting myself out there, looking for the right job to get started, and leaving the one I have now in the hopes I make it eventually. And since America’s workforce is so fraught with abuse these days, I keep wondering, is there a job out there that could make me happy? Is there a line of work out there besides writing that could bring fulfillment to my life? Or would I be shooting myself in the foot only to crash and burn with no safety net?
Finding Love
The truth is, I’m thirty and I’ve never been on a date. I was in a bad place in my life as a young adult, and by the time I finished college I realized I had a lot of growing up to do before I was ready for the kind of relationship I wanted. That was almost ten years ago. There’s a lot about my life I’ve made sense of, I have a better idea of who I am and what I want in my relationships, and I’d like to think I’ve matured since graduating. But I’m no closer to finding love now than I was back then.
For one thing, this pandemic hasn’t helped. I’m at high risk, so I’ve been taking every safety precaution possible for the past two and a half years. I’m lucky I haven’t tested positive yet, and I’m working towards getting my second booster shot soon. But the thought of going back out into crowded spaces fills me with dread. I’ve tried in the past, and I always came home paranoid that I picked up Covid while I was out. And it doesn’t help that everyone acts like the pandemic is over even as there are spikes and new variants popping up like Hydra heads.
The second part of it is that I don’t have any confidence in the romance department. I don’t walk into a room assuming anyone is attracted to me. So when anyone shows any interest in me, it’s always surprising. I was raised to believe that guys only want one thing, so I’ve had to challenge myself on that mindset and focus on making friends before figuring out if I’m attracted to them. The few times guys asked me to hang out, it filled me with dread because I always felt like he was asking more of me than I could give him.
I know I can’t keep living like this for long, especially not if I want to date. In my head, I know I’m supposed to be just as okay without romance as I would be with it. But in my heart, I feel that if I never experience it at least once, if I never try to find the kind of person I’d want to be with, I would go mad.
Finding My Place As An Author
I’ve made a little more leeway into the first draft of my next book. It’s a slow process, and I keep feeling tempted to go back and correct the work I’ve made before making any more progress. It’s been freeing to remember that the first time around isn’t about getting it perfect, that I can always rewrite the earlier chapters in the next phase, that this phase is only about laying the groundwork. But at the same time, new fears hold me back.
My family. This book will reveal things about myself that I haven’t talked openly about, not even to my family. It could change how they see me. And when I think of how they could respond upon seeing who I truly am and who I want to be, it scares me.
The failure of my first time. I only sold twenty copies of my first book, and every buyer was either a relative or a friend. My head keeps telling me I’ve only got one more chance to make it, and if I blow it then my writing career is over. I know in my heart that’s not the case, but I still can’t help feeling anxious.
The recent book bans. I want to write more inclusive stories with a variety of characters, but I know some will hate me for the things I want to write. Some may even want me dead for it. I hear that woman’s voice in the Mulan 2020 teaser saying, “when they find out who you are, they will show you no mercy.” I’m sure there are some out there whom my work will resonate with. But will that be enough?
A Leap of Faith
Ultimately, I don’t know where taking that step towards the life I want will lead me. I might fall, or I might rise. In any case, I won’t know until I try.