An update from OC

I was going to wait on this one. Everyone’s first question is, did you find somewhere to live? I wasn’t planning on giving an update until I could answer yes. But I found a great Airbnb deal and started settling into Costa Mesa. I have even been going to hot pilates in the mornings before work. I have a favorite coffee shop already. I know the laundry spot I prefer. I’m getting in a rhythm here, and that feels like enough for an update.

My plan was always to take my time so I didn’t rush into housing. Packing up a place I had very much made my home in two weeks, was an experience I don’t want to have to do again even small form for a while. I’ll stay in an airbnb until I find somewhere I want to commit to for at least 6 months. I don’t want to move somewhere just as a “bridge” to the life I actually want. I’ve brought my nervous system as close to it’s edge as is imaginable the past couple weeks, I need to give myself a spot I can finally settle in. So for that, i’m willing to wait.

I’m not unaware that this whole decision might have looked impulsive from the outside. Reckless, even. But I had someone close to me point out I’d been mentally moving for over a year, and that couldn’t be more true. I’d been in CA facebook groups for nurses, housing, dog sitting, and photography. I knew what rooms were going for, I also knew how difficult the job field is for nurses right now. So when I applied for my CA nursing license a couple months prior, I thought this whole process would take much longer than it did.

The timing was less than perfect in so many ways. When the offer finally came through, I could see the version of myself who would’ve said, “maybe I need a couple more months to wrap things up here, and i’ll apply again in the winter.” I saw the version who would justify continuing to coast, maybe travel to see family over holidays. Increase more of my savings. Start to sell things.

But I’d met that version before. And the underlying lack of contentment and something not feeling right, would grow daily. Acting on your own happiness is something you aren’t taught how to do, especially as a woman. It’s a muscle you have to grow. And so it can be really easy to find a reason not to make a decision so life altering, even if it’s in a good way. That’s the thing about choices that will change you permanently. There’s always another reason not to make them.

Maybe it had been my trip to Spain in Sept, that gave me the momentum I needed to act on this when the time came. God, that trip was stressful. So many plot twists I couldn’t have avoided without deciding not to go in the first place. But I remember at least once a day on that trip, after I’d gotten up early to get to my destination, attend a tour, or get to a beach before the sun came up all the way, having one of those moments where things just worked. And there I was, witnessing something so breath taking it almost seemed impossible. Surrounded by color, food, light, sounds, that are unlike nearly anywhere else in the world. And still, it was hard. It got lonely. I questioned whether solo travel is something I want to continue. But the phrase that had been echoing for a while was “life is meant to be lived.” And that rarely includes staying comfortable.

I’m not ever going to look down on someone who relies on safety and predictability to feel good in the world around them. We are wired for it. It’s part of why it took getting a nursing degree, before I was willing to let myself live somewhere else. Something I’d talked about doing for years, especially after losing a baby and ending a marriage in town I grew up in. Even though I’d spent a decade making Salt Lake a place I could thrive, there’s something to be said about giving your body the relief of new territory. Brand new. A place nobody knows you. Where you don’t have to play a role you no longer want to play. But that decision comes with challenges, that when you’re vulnerable, you’ll wonder, was I running away from or toward something?

And the answer doesn’t really matter as much as you’d think. Because once you get to CA and you’ve finished your training and you’re starting to find your rhythm, you’ll go to the beach alone after the sun has gone down. You’ll notice you’re the only one there, which allows you to feel things you maybe haven’t yet. You’ll expect it be grief. You’ll watch the moonlight hit the water, and the constant rhythm of the waves crashing in the background and the salty mist on your face, will remind you of all the times you’d traveled to a coast and wondered what it would be like to live next to one. A place the sun is out more often than not, and ocean is a an integral part of your daily routine. You’ll think about how you don’t have a ticket home this time. You live here now. And the feeling will bring a relief that your body doesn’t know what to do with, so you’ll start running down the coast. Music blasting. Arms wide. And all you can think is:

“I fucking did it.”