this time

When I was 22, I moved to Los Angeles for the first time. I'd graduated from college in May and spent the summer working at a restaurant in Boston but by September first I was driving my new used car across Arizona and New Mexico, marveling at how unbelievably boring the drive was.

Lots of people I'd gone to college with had seemed utterly, staggeringly prepared for the future. They had jobs or life plans for after graduation, and in response, I'd had this. I'd been dating my boyfriend long distance for the last two years and despite the fact that it'd started to get rocky after a year I'd clung to this plan because it seemed so logical and—out of all the possible things I could do after graduation—easy.

It wasn't easy. Moving is never as easy as I think it will be, and I was young(er) and terrified and in a difficult relationship. I spent four months looking for jobs (which consisted of a surprising amount of watching tv and being depressed) until miraculously I landed a great job the day I flew home for Christmas. With that job everything fell into place. Two months later my boyfriend and I broke up. I got a place of my own and even though life continued to be weird and frustrating and difficult for other reasons, it was never as bad as being in a strange city with no friends and no income, dependent upon someone who was contributing to my general malaise.

The point of this post was going to be to wonder whether this time is better or worse, but I just answered my question in those first two paragraphs. This time, granted, I don't have a permanent place to live. That brings its own frustrations with it and I'm seriously not discounting those because sometimes I hear my hangers clicking as I drive over bumps, or my earrings rattling, or I'm looking for one small thing that should be SO. EASY. to find and I can't and I think I can actually hear my blood vessels exploding. But really, I do have places to stay. I have lots and lots of places and what's more, I have lots of people who are willing to help. I have this whole extended network of friends who are actively giving me shelter or buying me food or taking me out or listening to me when I am convinced that this is what my life is going to be like for eternity.

I also know with some certainty that it's not going to be like this for eternity precisely because I've had that other experience. I didn't know anything then, about who I was or what it was like to live life by myself and I still managed to pull it together in a fairly short time. For over two years, I worked at one job and in that time I learned to navigate difficult situations with grace and poise. I learned invaluable things about my industry and working relationships and for that reason I'm proud I stayed as long as I did.

That said, I might be even more proud that I left when I did. I stuck it out until I had gotten and given as much as I possibly could and then decided that the bravest and best thing I could do was walk away (after giving over a month's notice) without knowing what came next. It's been alternately difficult and incredibly rewarding but what sustains me is that this time it was completely my choice. It's better this time because I have no interest in giving up or feeling sorry for myself or wondering when it will all end. This time it's my life and I have chosen to live it.