Journal Entry 2: I Moved to California…

Reporting to you live from Boston Logan Airport: I am scared. I am worried. I am sad. I am excited? Mostly sad. Mostly scared. My bag’s are too heavy and I’m a hot sweaty mess, but I’m making my way, people. I’m a woman on a mission with one end goal – happiness. I’m sitting at a window looking at the sunrise trying to think of how exactly I can put into words my feelings – how exactly I can explain to the world that I just upped and moved (again, but…) across the country. How I can convince myself more that it’s all okay by convincing you, too, that it is.

As I venture through life as the 22-year-old that I am, sometimes sh*t happens. It happens and you have to decide then and there what you’re going to do about it, how, when, if it’s the right thing. Sometimes you will be wrong. Sometimes you will regret. Sometimes you will struggle more than you ever thought you could – but those are the risks you have to take.

I’ve been a bad blogger the past week or two, so I thought I would give you all the inside scoop. Here’s the reality of it, plain and simple – I moved to California.

I hit a realization point in my life so I packed up my things, called everyone I knew and bought my ticket to California – all in a matter of 5 hours. Impulsive, I know. Across the country, I know. A little ridiculous and extreme, I know. I owe no one an explanation, but I mean, I didn’t make it easy for you not to wonder. So, here goes nothing…

The past 4 years have been the hardest years of my life. I had to grow up too fast. I had to fall a million times to stand up once. I had to learn to understand selfishness and selflessness and the proper times for each. How to handle giving and lowering my expectations for what I would receive in return. I never had trouble loving unconditionally but I had to learn that sometimes that’s not always what’s best for me. I went on so many adventures. I found myself. I never really knew who I was for a long time and constantly tried to turn myself into who I wanted to be, but it took  me understanding that that’s what was happening to realize I needed to just let myself be who I was meant to. I finally understood and defended my morals, my opinions, my emotions, but only after they were tested and sometimes persuaded in the wrong direction. I made and lost many friendships – broke down old relationships and then helped to build them back up again.

These were the best four years of my life in Virginia even though they have been the hardest. I received unconditional love, something I had been looking for for so long. Life is hard. Love is hard. Sometimes we settle for the love we think we deserve, or the love that we think is the most we will ever get. Sometimes our expectations are too high. Relationships are hard in general. They take work, time, mistakes, breakdowns… They will never be perfect. But sometimes it takes realizing that the relationship we have with ourselves may need some work first before it can ever have a successful one with someone else. Every single day that I wake up is a learning experience and I’m not saying the next four years of my life will be any easier – they will most likely get harder – but I’m taking risks for me, and all I can hope for is that I will one day look back on my life and say I never settled, I never shied from adventure, and I never didn’t risk it all. Life doesn’t have a guide or rule book. We are all in pursuit of our own happiness, whatever that may be. Live fearlessly. Take risks. Find adventure.

Here’s to mine.

Al

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