Six years ago, I was getting a haircut at my friend’s apartment.
I’d had a quarter-life crisis the month before and then did a whole lot of soul-searching. Was I happy in DC? Why did I still live there? What would happen if I left?
As Rachel clipped away, I talked through thinking about moving with them. I think I knew deep down what I needed to do but needed a little validation and a little push. (Side note: if you’re in Charlottesville and looking for a stylist, go to Studio 500 and ask for Rachel. You won’t be sorry.)
She cut bangs, and I decided I’d move. I went home and put my apartment on Craig’s List to find someone to finish out my lease.
I only regret one of those decisions.
I found someone right away, and spent the month of April 2008 saying goodbye to all of my favorite D.C. haunts and people.
I had no real plan except to move home until I got my life figured out. I love my parents to death, but being 25 and living at home was a good enough push for me to get my life figured out real quick. I moved into the city four months after I’d left D.C., and I’ve been here for nearly six years.
Now, when I go back to D.C., it’s usually for races. I’ve totally turned my life around from when I left, and I love going back. Especially because then I get to come back to my happy life in NYC.
That said, Cherry Blossom Ten-Miler, I’m coming for you!