big moves

Up until July 4th, I meant it. I suppose that I still do in a way. I definitely mean all that I'm about to say.

I'm sitting on my old bed, in my new apartment (my first ever, no-roommate, all-to-myself living space), typing away the butter on my fingers. Tonight's big purchase was a small microwave. Anyone remember when I used to eat at least one bag of popcorn each night in college? The braces are off... I'm bringing that back.

And I'm here to stay.

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On July 4th, I discussed my plans to move with a friend. He asked if I was willing to face the potential consequences of moving across the country. I would be jobless in a city full of strangers. I'd done it before, I told him. It was successful then. Why wouldn't it be successful now?

That's when the thoughts started to change.

Except it wasn't. On June 30th, I told my internet best friend (shout out to my girl, Autumn), "It's scary to commit to staying in one place when I know there's so much more out there."

She replied with understanding before stating the following:

It's not a bad thing to plant roots though. You've found some worthy soil to germinate in for a while. Embrace it.

At the time, I couldn't. I fought it. Alas, I questioned the worth of the fight. The conversation on the 4th made me question the worth of my life. Yesterday I completed my 28th move... I think. I started to lose track a while ago. The point is, I did move. For the first time, I had friends who helped me pack and unload everything. I had friends who visited my home. I had friends who asked if I needed anything else.

So I stayed.

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After surgery, I recognized the support system I've found. I realized that I have so much more to do here, so much more to see and be. I need to keep growing.

I didn't want to face the potential consequence of losing any of my people to distance. I didn't want to face the potential consequence of living paycheck-to-paycheck at a minimum-wage job while residing in a less-than-ideal apartment in one of the costliest cities. I didn't want to face the potential consequence of moving across the country just to move two steps back.

Instead, I chose to take two steps forward. One toward freedom--I'm unemployed, about to take a solo road trip, and living alone for the first time ever. The second toward my dream life.

Many say that the journey is the destination. I believed them. Acted on it? Never. Until now.

Yesterday, I took the journey of moving a whopping 18 miles... less than two miles from my first apartment in Des Moines. The day prior, I took the journey of walking out of my job for the last time. Thursday I took the journey of returning to Cedar Rapids for my last orthodontist appointment until 2020. Wednesday I took the journey of saying the first, "I'll see you when I see you," to my boyfriend, for what will likely be a few weeks. Tuesday I took the journey of getting my braces removed. Monday I took the journey of returning to work for my last week, despite the intense depression and anxiety. 

That's what life is: a series of daily journeys. It doesn't have to be more than that. It's one day. Then it's one day again.

I find comfort in that.

I find comfort in knowing that I submitted an application for a dream fellowship. I find comfort in knowing that I've started my grad school applications. I find comfort in knowing that I will be okay.

I've been here before, and I'm better than I once was.

I'm figuring this out.

Come with me?