I think this may be the first time I admit to this being somewhat a mistake, but a good one. Moving to New York is my favorite mistake. A good portion of my move was centered three things:
- I needed to get out of my comfort zone and the reach of my parents. High-school was pretty much bombarded with whatever my father thought was best for me. My interests, my future, my spare time. I was forced into a school I didn’t want to attend, forced to study a STEM major because my father wouldn’t have it any other way, and I felt that if I didn’t make a drastic decision of my own, he would still have some sort of control over me.
- I was running away from a sexual assault.
- … it was closer to the man I was in love with. I was given false hope about our relationship and where it would go. This is my greatest mistake.
There, I said it.
Moving to New York, though extremely difficult and incredibly lonely, was probably one of the best things I could have done for myself. May have taken 2.5 years to finally see the benefits of doing so, but now I’m currently on the correct path to having the life I deserve. I hope.
[PS: I would advise against following your heart to a different state ladies and gentlemen. Don’t do it.]