The Time I...sold all my belongings and drove across the country
"I am willing to sacrifice someone else’s approval to go after what I want."
It’s many hours past my bedtime and I’m sobbing in my husband’s childhood room. Long Island. Dead of winter. Homesick. I have an weird eye infection, terrible period cramps, and a lingering head cold. I know two things for certain about following your dreams:
You sacrifice a lot.
It’s worth it.
So here I am a few days ago, longing on Long Island. And for what, I am not certain. I don’t miss LA. In fact being back in NYC with friends, walking the dog, riding the subway, and getting my hair done have all been refreshing, kind and uplifting experiences compared to LA. LA can feel so fake and vapid. The wellness industry in LA can feel like the land of influencer zombies trying to convince you to cold plunge and do Ayahuasca (both things I have deep reverence for…but you get the point.)
LA is boring heaven and New York is fun hell someone once told me. You see, in LA people are nice but not kind and in NYC people are kind but not nice. Either way, I am not missing LA but I am missing some semblance of home. My heart aches in the transition. It beats, “where do I belong?”
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