Well. The struggle certainly must have been real. My apologies to anyone (if there, in fact, were a few out there) that was interested in reading my blog. As it does, life got crazy after my first post.
“But how crazy could your life have gotten to fire up a blog that you’ve been dying to start writing and then drop it like it’s hotter than a promiscuous woman in church right after the first post?” <– (That’s you, my imaginary and colorful reader.)
To answer your question: very crazy. I resigned from my job in August, took a career opportunity on the other side of the United States, and moved my entire life to a suburb of NYC. Then, in November, I decided it wasn’t right for me so I moved right back to the West Coast where I feel pretty certain I belong.
As I am finally settling back into the stability of my life in Phoenix and the career that I love, I find myself reflecting on a few questions surrounding the whirlwind that was the second half of 2014.
What the hell got into me to move my entire life to NYC? There was a very shiny prize being waved in front of me, and, when I was honest with myself, I felt a little stagnant. Loved my job, but knew it inside and out. Loved my friends and social scene, but at our age everyone (seemingly, besides me) is finding their forever and settling down… these are lifelong friends we’re talking about, so I knew it wasn’t goodbye. And my dating life… we won’t get into details, but it needed a new direction. So there I was, ready for an adventure. I made the decision to carpe this diem because the opportunity was laid out in front of me, and I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I forewent a new, and potentially better, life because I was comfortable. Nothing is permanent. No regrets.
Why didn’t I like it in my new surroundings? Since I’ve been back, this is the most common question I’ve been asked by friends and colleagues. I have had such wanderlust for travel in both work and life, I actually found it quite easy to slip into my new life in the City. Great area. Great apartment. Great friends were minutes away. But sometimes you have to just be quiet and listen to yourself. When I laid in bed at night, I knew in my heart that it wasn’t my long-term home. I moved there for that potentially better life, and, don’t get me wrong, it was a good life. But it wasn’t better.
Was it a rash decision to move back so quickly? I think it’s important to mention that, although the timing seemed hurried, the decision to trace my steps back to the Wild West was not taken lightly. I believe that quick decisions about big life things are often wrong decisions based on that moment’s emotions. It’s rare that HUGE life decisions need to be made in the time they give you to answer on Jeopardy. When things feel off or your inner voice is telling you “this isn’t what I signed up for,” definitely listen, but do yourself a favor and really take the time to let the emotional moment pass. Think it through. When I started feeling the itch to correct the path I had chosen, I gave myself a time frame to work with. After the timer was up and I wasn’t feeling differently, I made the decision to get back to my long-term happy. If you know for a fact that you’re not in the right place in life, why put off the corrective action. Make the moves to get back to happy.
Was this all just a waste of time and money? Absolutely not. I do not feel an ounce of regret for the path I took to NYC and back. In the end, I will rest at night knowing that I did not waste an opportunity. I have love for the new people I met and dear friends I got to spend time with on the adventure. Appreciation for the work experience and professional growth. Most of all, I rest easy knowing that my life here is my “potentially better life.”
So, here I am. Back at it.
Kiss my sAss.
