I Dropped Everything to Spend my Summer in California
Los Angeles, California.
A place many on the East Coast always dream of, and few actually get to. For me, I’ve always thought of LA as this “holy land” of sorts, up on this shiny golden pedestal in my mind. LA always felt like the land of endless opportunity, sunshine, and excellent vibes.
Cut back to February 28th, the day my friend Lindsay called from LA and offered up her couch for the summer.
I was on the train heading to Manhattan with Jordyn (@jofo_xo) and my mind started racing. As soon as I hung up the phone, I pictured myself on the West Coast. I pictured my cinnamon-sprinkle freckles spreading across my cheeks. I imagined going to all of the places I’ve only ever seen in movies. Beverly Hills. Hollywood. Santa Monica. Malibu. M A L I B U, guys.
But then, I thought about my steady (-enough) job at a coffee shop that I adored. I thought about the internship offer I just accepted (my first one EVER). I thought of the comfort, the routine I’d finally established for myself at home. It was a busy life, yes, but everything was flowing.
Did I want to disrupt that?
Because, yolo, and all that.
But really, I knew I’d be kicking myself if I gave up this opportunity. It’s so much easier to make a leap of faith when you know someone’s waiting for you on the other side. In my case, Lindsay was waiting in LA with open arms.
So I gave my notices. I packed my bags, and made my rounds. Over many cups of coffee and beach-breakfasts, I said, “see ya!” to my friends and family.
The only way I know how to describe those last days in town is Potential Energy. So much force, just waiting in storage. It wasn’t anxiety, it wasn’t fear, it was just energy, patiently waiting for it’s debut.
I thought about a lot of things those last few days, including:
- What if I hate it out there?
- What if I love it?
- I don’t have enough money to do this
- I don’t care
- Should I get a summer job?
- I don’t want to get onto the west coast just to do the same things I’d do at home.
- I hope I make friends
- What’s the air gonna feel like? I bet it feels different
- What if my self-confidence plummets?
- Maybe I’m not thin enough to live in LA
- Maybe I’m not beautiful enough to live there
- What if this is just a waste of time?
- Is it really as amazing as everyone says it is?
And, well, here I am.
Writing to you from Pacific Standard Time. I’ve been in California all but a day and a half, and I’m already in love. 36 hours on the other side of the country and it feels like I’ve found all the responses to those thoughts.
- I don’t hate it out here.
- I love it.
- Money Shmoney. You can always make more. So,
- Yes, find some sort of stream of income. For comfort purposes.
- Then… don’t do the same things.
- Put yourself out there, and you’ll make friends.
- The air does feel different. It’s lighter. And the street I live on smells like flowers. It’s ridiculous.
- Day one: self-confidence has not taken a hit yet. Seems promising.
- Shut up.
- Shut up.
- There’s no such thing as a waste of time. Every experience teaches you something.
- Day one verdict: y e s.
I have so much time out here. So much time to create the summer of my dreams, to grasp all of the experiences I can. I’m determined to make use of these next months, and see absolutely anything and everything. I’ll be throwing myself into this blog and putting out some amazing content for you. And I plan on finally finishing this side project that’s been collecting dust in the back of my mind.
Now is my time.
To explore, adventure, live.
Now is your time.
To explore, adventure, and live.
The only way to truly love your life is to build a life worth loving. And I don’t know about you, but I would so much rather have experiences to learn from than a bunch of what if?’ s floating through my mind.
So take that job offer. Buy that plane ticket. Move in with that person. Launch that business. Because why the hell not?
This life is exceptionally short. And the world is exceptionally large. If you choose to live your life in your bubble of comfort, by all means, I wish you the happiest and coziest of bubbles. But this feels like I’ve popped my bubble. I’ve gotten to a place I’ve always dreamed of. I’ve leapt out of my comfort zone with open arms and an eagerness for adventure. And it feels damn good.