I've spent much of my life running away from problems––relationships, jobs, and entire continents.

I always thought this was my version of growth. In some ways it was: I often left toxic people and places behind.

But it wasn't until recently that I realized how different running away from something bad is from running towards something good––even if they look the same from the outside.

When I run away from something, I think everything will be different on the other side.

"Once I leave this woman, I'll finally find The One who makes me happy."

"Once I leave this city, I'll find a place where people understand me."

I always thought the problem was something external. In reality I was running from something in myself. Every. Single. Time.

The tragedy is that wherever you run, you take yourself with you. You might experience a better life for a brief period of time, but eventually you'll catch up to yourself.

I thought my relationship was the problem, but the problem was my unwillingness to open up to people. A new person wouldn't fix that.

I thought the city I lived in was the problem, but the real problem was that my anxiety kept me house-bound. A new city wouldn't fix that.

On the other hand, running towards something has a completely different texture.

It's hard to explain, exactly, but it's often colored by an openness, and a more complete understanding of the imperfection of any person, place, or time.

Running toward something has specificity to it.

"I'm moving to Austin for a job opportunity, even though it's a risk."

"I'm leaving this relationship because I better understand what I want in a woman, even though I have some work to do on myself."

"I'm leaving this job so I can start my own business, even if it'll be difficult at first."

Running towards a new challenge often leads to genuine change, or is a manifestation of growth.

Running away from an old problem perpetuates the self-sabotaging patterns of your past.