Yesterday marked a year since I moved to New Jersey.
Where did time go?
Seriously.
I remember the moment I decided to make the big move. I considered it for months, but up until that point, it was just a thought. A distant dream.
Of course, the original plan was New York City, but baby steps.
I was sitting around Channing’s coffee table clipping magazines. She hosted a vision board party to celebrate six months of officially being Channing In The City.
We sipped on Sauza margaritas while eating hors d’oeuvres that we made from a stop at Duane Reade’s. Miguel’s “Kaleidoscope Dream” played off her MacBook followed by a couple Kanye albums that amped us up for a night out.
After the clipping was done, we each discussed our vision for the next year.
I wanted to lose the 15 pounds that I had recently gained. I wanted to become more financially stable thus more independent. Also, I officially decided that I was going to move to New York City, which surprised the girls.
Simply put, I’d never felt more comfortable around women who wasn’t my family. And that I’d just met for the most part.
Plus, at the time, I was barely working and what work I was doing, I’d come to despise. Actually, it was more of the situation moreso than anything. I hoped moving to the Big Apple would change it.
I struggled to tell my love about my decision when I returned to Delaware. It hurt me to my core thinking that I was leaving his side again.
I had already left twice. Once for four months to study abroad and the other time for a whole year while I worked in my field.
I remember lying in the dark trying to tell him. My voice cracked as I searched for the words. My eyes filled with tears unsure of what it meant.
How would he respond?
“Well, I’ll be up there more often,” he said.
He’s a keeper.
I told my family at my aunt’s annual block party.
“You know they got rats?” my oldest brother asked.
Another brother chimed in saying he doesn’t think he could ever live in New York City. Something about it being expensive, too big and too crowded.
New York does have rats and I squeal like a little girl every time I see one scurry across the streets I’ve come to love.
And it is crowded. Much like Times Square.
But aside from the endless opportunities, I’ve come to love New York City for the same reason I decided to move. The women I’ve met along the way. The relationships that are blossoming. And the overwhelming support.
Without even knowing, they force me to really face freedom. To let go of my insecurities and get out there. Whether it’s passing the Bar, working a demanding position to prove to herself and coworkers that she can handle it, and struggling to find a job she feels proud of while working on her passion project.
When I’m with them, New York doesn’t seem as scary as it once did. The crowded streets doesn’t matter. And dare I say it, New York feels smaller.
They, along with other women in their circle, make it feel like home.
That in itself makes the move worth it.
