California dreaming

When I was 23, I moved to Los Angeles. My older sister Lorraine left for California after graduating college in the 80s and stayed out there. When I was young, I would go visit her with my parents or my Aunt Florence. Something about California seemed impossibly glamorous and other worldly when I was 11. I fell in love. It was always sunny and the ocean greeted you at every turn. I was enraptured by the palm trees and the active lifestyle. Growing up in Boston my whole life, I was used to freezing cold winters, barren landscapes and grumpy people. I mean its beautiful in the spring and summer but that doesn't last that long. California was the land of plenty and I wanted to go. I set my sights on leaving when I was in high school. I knew by the time I was 15 that I would move there eventually. I ended up staying in Boston for college mostly due to financial reasons but as soon as I graduated I was off. I ended up in Los Angeles which wasn't my first choice but my other sister was living there and offered me a place to stay. At 23 with nothing to my name, I couldn't turn down a solid place to live in my dream state 2 miles from the glorious ocean! My first 3 months there were some of the best of my life. I had saved up enough money to not have to work right away and after slaving away through 5 years of college, that felt like a ridiculous luxury. I woke up late, went to the beach during the day to either sunbathe or roller blade (It was the 90s so cut me some slack on the roller blades...and before you ask, yes I wore cut off jeans and a bikini top) and then I went out at night to one of the trillion bars in the area. I was single, unencumbered and away from my parents for the first time. I hobnobbed with celebrities, took a road trip to Vegas, started cocktail waitressing in a bar in Santa Monica and was basically living the good life. Sounds like it right? Well, not exactly. I started realizing how much I missed my family and friends about 5-6 months into living there. I also came from going to school full time and working 2 jobs to basically working part time and having way too much time on my hands. I had no real direction at this point. In college, I studied English and History and minored in film studies. I couldn't make up my mind about what I wanted to do and nor should any 18 year old have to. What the hell do we know about life at that age? I knew I loved to write and read and hear other peoples stories but what could I do with that? One professor thought I should become a lawyer, another one a film critic. Nothing really appealed to me so I felt lost. And all of a sudden I was no longer too busy to think about the fact that I had no direction. One of the greatest times of my life quickly turned into one of the worst. I became really depressed.After 10 months of living in LA, I moved back home to Boston. I felt like a total failure. The one goal I had set for myself ended with me feeling like I had disappointed myself. I couldn't make it on my own. Of course, in retrospect none of this was true. I didn't fail - I made it to California didn't I? That was the original goal and I accomplished it. I eventually learned to feel proud of that. There was also so many unforeseen circumstances that happened there - I hated my job, living with my sister was hard and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life in a place surrounded by strangers. I needed more support to make some of the bigger decisions that would define my future. I hadn't counted on missing my friends and family and old life so much. When I returned to Boston, I remember being so happy and so relieved and so grateful to be back. I had a good life there. I went back to work at the restaurant I had worked in throughout college and moved in with friends. I remember one particular night a few months after I had returned. The Red Sox were in the playoffs and the whole city was enraptured. I was working that night and got out early because everyone was in the nearby bars watching the game. I had an hour commute home and I knew if I headed home, I would miss the game so I ran to the nearest bar and found a seat in front of the TV. I ordered a beer and watched the game surrounded by cheering fans. It was an amazing night. I was alone but surrounded by people all rooting for the same thing. This memory stands out to me so clearly because in LA, I was alone but surrounded by millions of people and I FELT alone and here back in Boston, I was alone and surrounded by people but I felt wanted and comfortable and safe. This memory pretty much encapsulates my whole experience in LA and the lessons I took away from that experience. I had so many people that cared about me and that would help me make good decisions about my life.

I'm writing about this because somewhere in my 30s I started having the nagging feeling that I wasn't done with California - that eventually I would return. For good or just for a short stay again, who knows but I've been thinking about making that choice again and why not? The time is ripe. I have now lived in LA, New Jersey, Boston and New York. I have had many experiences in my life between 23 and 40 in these various places and feel like I need to circle back around. My California time feels unfinished. The phrase, "youth is wasted on the young" feels apt here - that I couldn't fully appreciate living in CA when I was young but I certainly will now. After surviving some harrowing winters in the northeast, wouldn't it be nice to have sun and warmth all year round? Wouldn't it be nice to tumble out my door and step foot on a beach instead of in dog shit on my front step? Wouldn't it be nice to spend a Sunday riding bikes along the beach or hiking in the hills instead of navigating a crazy subway to wade through tourists in central park? Wouldn't it be nice to sit outside and drink wine and listen to the ocean instead of inside a crowded bar with snow falling? I know I may be idealizing this because my current situation is so hard but I don't think so. I think that maybe I wasn't meant to be there in my 20s but I am meant to be there in my 40s. I have learned to listen more to my intuition and its been softly singing the California song to me for a while now. It will only get louder and more aggressive the longer I don't listen to it. I don't want to wait to long to do what feels right. Lets see where this leads.