I'm at a point in my life where there are probably some big changes on the horizon--changes that are both exciting and terrifying. Based on these signs, it looks like I may end up back in New York City. The push was for Boston, but somehow the universe knew otherwise.
Almost one month ago, my husband lost his job. Deep down, I knew it was coming. I can't tell you exactly how I knew, just that I knew something major was going to happen. For three days prior, I had a massive headache. Nothing I could do would relieve the pain--I would go to bed in pain and wake up in pain. I could function (barely), but I was miserable. Then, suddenly, on a Tuesday afternoon, it stopped. The headache went away at the exact time he was let go. Sure, it is probably nothing more than freaky coincidence, but I still believe that I sensed what was about to happen.
We cried. We panicked. We created multiple budgets and sorted out what we needed to do to survive. But almost as quickly as the fear set in, a calm came over me. I made peace with this situation almost immediately. Panic wouldn't change it. And I wouldn't let it change me.
I still believe that this is my year. This is the year that I get out and get what I want. This setback is actually an opportunity to get closer to where I want to be and what I want to be doing. I thought for sure that would be in Boston. However, as we searched for jobs, we found many, many more in New York. And that prompted me to look for jobs as well.
New York captured my heart long ago. Growing up in a very small town in Maine, I long for so much more. I briefly visited New York when I was a teenager and I was hooked. I spent my freshman year of college there. I may have been poor and underage, but I loved the city. I always had fun, even finding joy in just wandering (some days well over 100 blocks, just because I could). In part because of finances, and in part because of a boy, I returned home. It remains one of my greatest regrets of my life.
To be fair, there are plenty of great experiences I wouldn't have had and plenty of people I wouldn't have met had I stayed. So, I can't feel too sorry for myself here. However, I always secretly longed to return. But circumstances were never quite right and I was never in a position where I could just go.
But now it seems, fate my be deciding for me. And I have to admit, this is a little frightening. I have to wonder if I have romanticized New York. Is this fondness based more on regret and longing than on reality? I've all but forgotten coming home with my hands and face blackened by smog. Or those occasional moments of panic when I was out by myself late at night (though, admittedly, I often felt safer in New York than my own hometown late at night). Or practically starving because everything was so expensive. Am I just fooling myself into thinking that New York will magically solve everything and everything will be different and better?
It will be different. If New York does come through, it will be for work. I'll finally be doing something I love (or close to it) in a city I love. I will (eventually) be able to enjoy all that it has to offer. I'm ready. I'm ready for the change and I'm ready for the challenges. Open your arms to me, New York. Let me in and let me love you again. I'm ready to make up for past mistakes and regrets. I'm ready for you.
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