Friday marked our one-month San Diego anniversary (San Diego-versary?) and my, so much has happened in just 4 weeks. We: moved into our new apartment, scored a ton of awesome furniture at flea markets and thrift shops, met new people, tried out Ashtanga yoga, networked like CRAZY, secured freelance gigs and made about 1,000 trips to Target.
But now all that movement has for the most part settled and I finally have time to reflect on this big change we’re going through, and you know what? In some ways it was much harder than I thought. In fact, moving to California has at times been harder than traveling to third world nations with just a backpack and some common sense. I mulled over our RTW trip so long that I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. It was also a bit of a fantasy life, where I could city-hop, eat great food and live responsibility-free. But San Diego? I just threw my arms up and said, “OK!” and I’m now absorbing just how drastic of a change it’s been to go from a booming metropolis like New York to backpacking to a completely new city, where I have no family, just a couple friends and no clear vision of what’s next. And not knowing what’s next for someone like me can be a struggle.
Each chapter of my life was about looking forward. In high school, I looked to college. In college, I looked to New York. In New York, I looked to traveling. In traveling, I looked to San Diego. And now that I’m in San Diego, where do I look? I’ve always had trouble sitting still, constantly dwelling on the future rather than soaking in the present, and in the past month I felt it like a hot fever.
That fever was only augmented by the trials and tribulations of moving — things like furnishing an apartment, learning how to drive on the freeway (hate) and making new friends. Most of the days I’m focused and happy and energized and ready to conquer my goals. But there were some days during the last month when I’d be frustrated and unmotivated and overwhelmed and want to eat these cookies all day.
But it’s funny because as soon as I crossed that month-long threshold — literally to the day — things have begun to click. Our apartment is starting to look like a home, I’ve been meeting cool people who like food, the outdoors and even blogging just as much as I do, and life as a freelance writer is beginning to take shape. I’m discovering my favorite “spots” and figuring out how I want to spend my free time. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together and I’m realizing that the idea of staying put doesn’t seem so hard to swallow after all. I’m always going to be a traveler at heart and I’m not saying San Diego is a forever kind of thing — never say “forever” — but for the first time, I’m living where I want to live and doing what I want to do without holding onto an expiration date.
I’m still adjusting and finding my niche, but it’s comforting to know that hey, maybe the hardest part is over.
Has anyone else felt similar rambling thoughts during a big transition?