New York gave me _________.
Okay. I’ll say it.
I miss New York.
Leaving the city that’s shaped me into adulthood was not a decision made lightly. New York was my home. It’s where I found family. It was the center of the universe, and in my heart, it still is. New York had always been where I go to run; to sprint towards the next accomplishment. It was my safe haven; the place where I naturally speak the language and the city speaks back at me, even if that communication is a hasty “FUCK YOU” from a man on a bicycle. New York is tough and rough and it is exactly where I needed to be…
Until one day, I woke up, and I knew it was time to go.
Let’s rewind.
Last October I went on a 10 day trip to Oregon and came back with my world ROCKED. I walked into my tiny, 400 sq foot apartment in Brooklyn, and immediately wrote down “ESCAPE PLAN” in big red letters on a white board.
—
Maybe I don’t miss New York. Maybe I miss the comfort of it.
That’s when it all made sense.
Los Angeles is a different story. It’s a new language. I did not move to Los Angeles for the glamour of Hollywood, I moved here with the expectation of a gritty city. I knew it was a grind going into all of this.
Moving to Los Angeles is like going to a masquerade ball for the first time; everyone pretends to be someone their not, insecurity runs rampant, and vulnerability is a cheap thrill. The perceived glitz and glamour and “importance;” everyone is trying to be somebody instead of just being themselves.
I had to stop myself and ask some very important questions.
Do I enjoy my surroundings?
Do I enjoy the people I’m with?
and most importantly,
Is there something I would rather be doing?
The answer to all of those things, in order, is
No
Sort Of
and
Yes.
I needed to slow down. I needed to take a good, hard look at myself in the mirror, and ask the most difficult question of them all
What makes me happy?
Leaving New York was like hitting the reset button on my entire personality. I am so different from who I was then, and I’m still growing into who I am meant to be. The emotional memory of the past is being released over time to make room for a very bright future. In Oregon, the truest version of myself got to make her first appearance. I vividly remember looking in the mirror in my big sweater, stained jean jacket, leggings, and doc martens, hair all natural, barely any makeup on, and saying
“Yup. That’s her.”
I thought I cared.
I thought I cared a lot,
About the job, the house, the cool clothes, the happy relationship…all the status symbols of “making it” when I never took into consideration
Do I actually care about any of these things? Do they actually make me happy?
In my stillest moments of the quietest hour in the house where I reside in Los Angeles, I know where I would rather be.
I find stillness in the mountains. In nature. In my craft. In storytelling. Under the big blue sky, feeling the grass beneath my feet and the air filling up my lungs like hot air balloons, and most importantly, I find peace talking about it. I have always loved to share. At my core I am a community builder.
Los Angeles cares a lot more than I do about looking cool.
Here’s how to be the antithesis of cool:
Be free
Be passionate.
Free to do whatever you want, and passionate to the point that it’s weird.
It’s cool to care about things. What’s even cooler is to know precisely what you care about. The coolest part of all is learning along the way, and there is a LOT to learn in this big wide world of ours!
Anthony Bourdain is one of my heroes and my favorite quote from him is “perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am. And how unwise. And how far I have yet to go.”
I’ve attained some wisdom over my short life, but I’ve only lived 1/5 of it. I still have many mountains to climb, places to go, and things to see. I wonder why I tried to tie myself to another identity that doesn’t quite fit; Los Angeles is like a pair of pants that’s too small in the waist and awkward in my legs; it’s hard to breathe here.
In light of all these revelations over the last 6 weeks, and all these mirrors coming in and out of my life, all I can say is thank you for guiding me to an even more realized version of myself.
LA, you’ve been fun, but you’re merely a stopover.
New York doesn’t care if you look cool. New York is a beast that knows it’s own power. It’s easy to feel confident there; the city is my first language.
LA is a beast of a city with a gucci belt. I’ve never been one to care about designer.