I admire Liv for her work ethic, for her output.
The frequency at which she blogs reminds me of the days when I used to do the same; I cared less about what people thought of each post. I want to get back to that; I want each post to be the best writing it can be. Both are not always possible, but I’m hoping to carve out some more time to blog; I’m beginning to get a better idea of stuff I want to pitch and stuff I want to share here.
This morning I want to talk about the idea of home.
On September 2, I left the home in NYC I’ve known for the past two-and-a-half years. Since then, I’ve stayed in four different places in California alone; I stayed in probably at least five or six places on my trip.
It was easy to say I felt at home on my trip; I was with my best friend, one of the people I feel the most comfortable with. But anywhere we stayed felt like home quickly, though perhaps I was too tired to think otherwise.
But I’ve been here in LA for almost two weeks, first in an Airbnb in Venice, then in Meg’s Airbnb for work in Pasadena and now in the place in Santa Monica I’ll be for the next month.
My place is a little dorm-y, for sure. I mean, hi, it’s a short-term rental situation.
But for as sterile as it is (though I’ve incorporated some personal touches like hats and bags on the bookshelves to give it more personality), it also feels like home already.
It’s not where the apartment is (to be honest, I don’t know if I *love* being in downtown Santa Monica, or even *need* to be that near everything), it’s not what it looks like…it’s me.
Which is relieving and terrifying all at once. My old therapist kept saying, “wherever you go, there you are” about me coming here.
And it’s true; the good habits and coping skills I’d built and practiced in NYC came with me; so did the bad feelings.
But overall, I feel at home—even adjusting to driving again as a lifestyle—more quickly than I would have expected, which may have to do with being pretty familiar with LA already before this.
But I feel at home with myself, mostly, so I can feel at home nearly wherever I am. If I’ve felt this before, it was certainly a long time ago. It feels good.
That said—I want to get on the next flight to NYC every bit as much as I want to keep exploring here. I am doing well here, but I miss my people at home a lot (like more than I can actually tell them so instead I’m writing it here?)