The past week and a half has been the most difficult ten days I've encountered since I moved to Los Angeles to begin with. I find myself suffering through that same uncertainty; the pain of being away from home, the agony of trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life and the insanity of running through every, single life-option I could have chosen and trying to decide why I chose this one.
I've been beating myself up because I've taken all of this stress and frustration out on those closest to me and that's not fair. So I decided to write it all down. Because let's face it, words (as simple as they may seem) are my outlet and I have so much to express.
So many of my friends are getting married (or already are married), are having babies (or have babies), or are on some ridiculously, perfectly planned career path they've seemed to intricately map, plan and begin to journey.
And here I am: coming home from a job that I hate every day, popping a cup of ramen in the microwave because that's all that I have the energy to make, sitting on the couch watching NetFlix and going to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. In the last few days, I've felt like I'm at this point in my life where nothing makes sense anymore.
A little over two years ago, I packed up my car and moved to California like it was nothing. Seriously. It was literally a no-brainer and I still have no clue why it was so simple or why I was strangely unfazed by what I was doing. Somehow, something inside of me decided that this was what I was going to do and so I did it. Fast-forward to present day: and here I am. I survived the daunting experience of becoming a transplant in one of the most expensive cities in the United States.
This is the point in which I've been awkwardly twiddling my thumbs and asking: "...now what?"
So today I was over it. I'm tired of waking up every day and feeling like I haven't grown up since I've been here. I'm tired of asking myself why.
So I pulled myself out of my apartment and to my car and started driving. At first, I wasn't really sure where I was going...but I just started driving anyway.
I ended up on the corner of 7th and Gramercy--in the heart of Koreatown. Koreatown is a section of downtown Los Angeles, which is where I moved when I first found myself in LA. It was all I could afford (in fact, I could only afford to sleep on a twin-sized air mattress on the floor of practically a stranger in her studio apartment). I parked and walked around; it was familiar but at the same time it felt distant. This was a part of my life that I remember counting every penny and pushing myself to find something stable; a job that would just get me through. I dreamt of getting out of K-Town. But I was hopeful, and I knew some day I would.
And I did. And then I found a group of friends who made me feel like family. So I got back in my car and found myself in the valley where I spent a year of my life. I parked across the street from the apartment my friend and I spent our days and nights in. Again, it was so familiar and yet, I felt different being there all this time later (as it's been just about a year as of tomorrow since I lived there). I remember not being able to go out very much because I lived so far away from Hollywood. I remember commuting to and from work; being in the "valley" meant trying to save as much money as I could to get out of the valley. I dreamt of getting out of the valley; and I knew that I eventually would.
And then I ended up back in West Hollywood in front of my apartment. This being the apartment where I can walk pretty much everywhere. We live across the street of the SLS, right next to the Beverly Center. I live in the city. I'm a quick drive to the sights of West Hollywood and Hollywood, itself (literally a $6 cab fare [with tip!]). I've enjoyed many nights on the rooftops of hotels, exploring different bars and restaurants. I've sat on my living room floor drinking wine with friends as we watched the sunrise creep up and illuminate the hills of Hollywood.
As I visited each spot I've landed myself in since I've been in California, I realized something. I'm not the same girl. And while all of my friends have built their lives beautifully, I've built mine, too--just in a different way. But it's a way that I've always known in my heart was meant for me. It's a way that I truly believe I was destined to be, otherwise driving to California wouldn't have felt so simple and so seamless.
So here I am, reminding myself that I'm where I'm supposed to be in this moment and that I have grown and that I am going to be okay.
Here's to learning to trust the path we've chosen, even if it is the "path less traveled".
