This is not the post I thought I’d be writing. This was supposed to be an exhilarating new chapter of life and it’s turning out to be a difficult turn in my journey.
If you know me personally, you know I have dreamt of moving to California for a long time. I’m not quite sure when the seed was first planted. Maybe it was all the red carpets I watched or my hardcore Hannah Montana and JONAS LA obsessions as a child. Maybe it was the first time I heard The Beach Boys as a sunny little girl, or the first time I listened to The Mamas and The Papas croon “California Dreamin” straight into my soul as a free-spirited teenager. But once I knew what I wanted, I never wavered.
I kept it mostly quiet, as if declaring it out loud to the world would taint it or prevent it from actually happening. But I’ve been nurturing this conviction in my heart for ages, determined to bring it into reality, and the roots grew firm when I fell in love at first visit in 2017. This summer, five years after I promised the palm trees I’d be back, I felt the timing was right to try out living in LA. I saved, planned, and worked up the guts do the bravest thing I’ve ever done in my life, driving across the country alone to get here!
Then I got laid off.
Suddenly I’m moving back to the East Coast.
I believe there is a special kind of power in vulnerability and raw emotion and right now I’m an overflowing well of it, and the only thing I know to do is write. Quite honestly, I am crushed. It is taking every ounce of strength in me to put aside my pride and accept what feels like a major setback. My first few days here were riddled with anxiety and worry and so much strangeness, and right when I decided I really do want Los Angeles, I can’t yet have it.
I was so thrilled to tell family and friends and everyone about my bold new move and now I feel like shrinking and curling up inside myself because it’s not panning out. It’s breaking my heart to put my dream on hold and go back to the town I once couldn’t wait to get out of, so I can regroup and eventually try again with more security. But it’s the logical move to make given the circumstances, and I am privileged enough to have a landing place to do so.
You may say, “Whoa, Morgan, chill out – it’s not that serious.” And at the end of the day, it probably isn’t that serious. It’s just a temporary delay, but if you know me, you also know I take everything too seriously because I care so much. This situation hurts like hell. I am doing better and easing into acceptance now, but in the immediate aftermath of the decision to go home I felt intense shame (a lifelong struggle for me that is only magnified by things like this), disappointment, fear, embarrassment, loneliness, confusion, and sorrow. I came so close only to have my fresh start cut short just as I arrived. I’ve never been one to go easy on myself. I’ve also rarely been one to step out of my comfort zone, so when I do take a leap and I fall, I struggle to see the positive or validate myself for trying something new and scary in the first place. But although it may not have panned out this time, I did something that takes a tremendous amount of courage and I know I should ultimately be proud of that.
So much of my identity and sense of self is wrapped up in this dream that it feels hard to untangle it or find peace no matter what I do next. Maybe there’s a lesson in there, like why it’s important to have more than one dream in life, ha. But that’s part of the work I have ahead of me. Continuing to embrace discomfort and wade through the murky uncertainty of my twenties to get to the clarity and action.
As much as this feels like defeat, and tempted as I am to go full “woe is me” pity party mode, here’s another thing I know: I’m down but not out. I’ve felt stifled and slightly out of place for as long as I can remember, but I finally caught a glimpse of what my life could be like here, of the free and genuinely happy person I could be here. I am still clinging to that potential ever so tightly.
Despite my misfortunes, I am elated that I took this chance and had this opportunity! I got to explore America for the first time and traversed so many incredible landscapes and adventured thousands of miles to confirm what my intuition has known for ages – I love it here. I want to explore and grow here. LA is tough, but it is truly a city for dreamers and creators and visionaries, and its energy inspires me. I take comfort in the beauty and grit and mundanity and freedom I see here, and in the knowledge that it will still be here when I’m ready to commit with steady ground under my feet.
So I’m taking the loss and redirection and trying to give myself grace. I want to remember this time as a learning experience and a fun mini-vacation/exploratory visit, ideally the first of many to come! I want to remember my childlike awe at the Hollywood Hills and canyons, the towering palms and massive cacti and succulents, the laid back vibe of each sunshine-y day, the sweet scent of eucalyptus carried on the breeze, and the dazzling orange glow of the sunset over the Pacific Ocean. I want to hold this treasure of a trip close to my heart.
My dream is not dead, only deferred, and I won’t give up. The joy will come – and until then, I’ll do my best to live out my values and cultivate joy in other areas of life. I hope California waits for me, because I will wait for her and reach for her with love and longing.
Now it’s time for me to listen to The Beach Boys again. “Don’t worry, baby. Everything will turn out alright.”
