Every trip back to Atlanta has been hard for me. This past one was particularly difficult…. maybe it’s because I stayed too long… maybe it’s because I fell back into all the motions as if I had never left… I felt like I was being suffocated by a lot of my old demons that I thought had been put to rest.
A very close friend of mine expressed his gratitude for my friendship. Offered sympathy for some of the heartbreaking events he saw me endure in the past. Gave me the advice that if I have a family of my own it will slow me down… to which I replied “I don’t have time to slow down.” And he countered “But maybe you need to… you can’t move at full speed forever and expect not to crash.”

I found myself back in the exact same place that years ago she and I sat at as I told her those deep dark stories of what I had endured and she cried over my pain. That day I expected to cry over her’s… yet I left the table realizing my friend is so much stronger than I was giving her credit for. There was no need for either of us to shed tears because we are both going to be ok… period.

I had a few moments where I felt like I stepped back in time.. only it was different because some of the key people that were there then, weren’t here with me now. I miss them. I wish they were still beside me and everything hadn’t ended in turmoil the way it did. But it did.

I got a phone call from a friend in need and before they could even explain what had happened I already knew. Because it was something I too had experienced as a younger more naive version of myself. It changed me in such an extreme way and I was fearful it would do the same to them…. yet I had no advice to give because 10+ years later I still don’t know the answer.

A particular someone, who’s opinion means the world to me, expressed in a group conversation that he knew I was going to be rich and successful. It was undoubtedly encouraging to hear that but all I could think was “But once I achieve that, then what?”

It’s a very strange feeling for someone who doesn’t deal with emotions well…. aka just numbs them until they are forgotten… to be so overwhelmed with emotions of every sort. I miss what was. I have grown from what happened, yet I still don’t know what to tell the next person as far as the lessons I’ve learned. I’m still not sure of what I want to happen next. Will I ever have enough? Will I be content if I move to Cali and fulfill all my dreams of success and wealth? Or will something always be missing? Would I change the past if I could? 

I don’t know. But I do know it’s therapeutic to actually deal with and OWN these emotions rather than trying to keep burying them deep down inside as they arise.   

You know it’s funny…as much as I dreamed of California as a child and even as I still pondered over it as an adult.. it took me a REALLY long time to actually go see it. As I got older and more successful, taking vacations to distant places became common for me; from trips with boyfriends, and my frequent girls trips, I had been all sorts of places. From New York to Vegas, Colorado to Puerto Rico, traveling was something I was comfortable with. Yet I never thought about planning a trip to Cali. Honestly, I think subconsciously I was scared that once I actually saw it I would feel more pressure to make it my home… and if for some reason I couldn’t or never did, I’d know what I was missing out on. Then, just like he has done so many times in my past, God stepped in and laid my path in front of me.

I have a girlfriend who is a casting director and occasionally she would contact me to audition for shows. Shortly after my 29th Birthday she contacted me regarding a gig which I would have passed on just because the timing was horrible, the pay wasn’t great, and it wasn’t particularly impressive, but it was being filmed in LA, so I went for it. I was genuinely surprised when I got it! Things moved very quickly and within a few days my flight was booked. It was a 2 day job but knowing how badly I wanted to see LA my girlfriend pulled some strings so I was able to stay 3 extra days after filming. All this time I had spent dreaming of Cali and contemplating when and how I should go and here I was with a trip handed to me. Flight paid for, hotel paid for, food allowance included, and I was at least getting paid enough that missing work couldn’t be an excuse either.

I got off the plane and I immediately wasn’t impressed, slightly disappointed even. I spent 2 days exploring LA. Strolling Hollywood Blvd. and playing tourist. I’d stand in the obnoxiously crowded Starbucks to order breakfast. Spend my lunch hour trying to get the perfect picture of the Roosevelt Hotel, or some famous landmark, to post on social media. Then I’d have dinner at a trendy, yet incredibly over priced restaurant where the food was only mediocre before heading back to my extremely outdated, but still  very pricey Motel room. *Yes, I meant to say Motel. Apparently if a movie scene was filmed at one of these establishments (even if it was 30 years ago), what would typically be a considered the equivalent of a Motel 6, would now becomes a staple place to stay while visiting Hollywood and the nightly rates would be substantially more than one would expect for such accommodations.* Overall, LA seemed a bit obnoxious, a bit phony, and particularly overrated.

After filming I took a friend’s advice and headed to the beaches. I spent the next few days bouncing between Manhattan Beach, Hermosa, and Redondo. It was incredible! By far one of the most beautiful places I have visited, from the landscape to the architecture. I spent my days eating the best Mexican food I have ever tasted, strolling through the quaint beach shops, and sinking my feet into the sand to watch the sunset. I was 100% alone here. I didn’t know anyone and while it isn’t uncommon for me to go places alone, I was really far away and alone. I realized, I can do this on my own. I can move and start a new chapter on my own. There was no need to wait for anything or anyone.

That tripped changed my life for so many reasons. Besides the fact that I accomplished something I had dreamed about as far back as the 5th grade, Hell, as far back as I can remember…. making it to California. But what really made this trip so meaningful is not something I can describe, other than to say it gave me clarity. I was struggling with so much during this period of my life and while that didn’t all get repaired on this trip, this trip helped me find the right direction. It led me to my path of fulfilling my dreams. It was the reason these dreams transformed to goals, and those goals were developed into action.

In case you didn’t know what you meant to me….

You made me. Without a doubt I would not be the woman I am today had it not been for you. You saved me. You gave me everything I ever dreamed of and more. With you I found my strength. You taught me the Hustle. You changed my Lyfe for the better. I’m so incredibly thankful for you and all these nearly 9 years of memories and experiences.

 I know it sounds cliche but it’s truly Me and not You. It’s not your fault I left. I’ll admit it…. I’m never satisfied. I like to have my Cake and Eat it too. You did everything you were supposed to; Provided me all I needed for a very long time. But sadly, you aren’t what I need anymore. We have reached a standstill and I’m moving on. I love you with all my being and it took a long time for me to get the strength to walk away but now that I have, I can’t turn back. It’s hard and I miss you terribly, but I know there is more for me out in the world than what you can offer. It’s sad how you built me up SO much that I outgrew YOU. I almost wish you hadn’t. 

I know this is my choice and what I want so I shouldn’t feel sad, but selfishly I do. I’m sad because I really wanted you to be my forever. I didn’t want to have to start over again. I wanted you to be my fairytale… and actually, you were… it just didn’t end Happily Ever After.  I just wish it would have been good enough…. Good enough to stop me from dreaming bigger. Good enough to prevent me from wanting more. I’m sad that I can’t just be content with all you have given me. I’m sad that I feel like I have to leave you and search for more. Will I ever find what I’m looking for? Or will the next Love Story end like this too?

I put my all into this and it has been an INCREDIBLE ride. I’m truly sad it’s ending. I’ve shed SO many tears over my decision. It’s ironic that YOU are the one that showed me a Lyfe like this was even possible…. now I’m leaving you because I want to see what else is possible. It’s ironic how devestated I am when I didn’t have to leave. I could’ve just stayed… or even now that I’m gone I know I could still come back. But that isn’t fair to me. I need to chase my dreams… I have to, YOU taught me that.

I don’t want it to end, but it has to so the next chapter can begin. So I’ll cry over my loss but I’ll wipe my eyes so I can see ahead to my future. You we’re my home and will always be my heart. 

Forever I Love Atlanta

My love story about the City that made me. 

My Bestie landed a job in California, invited me to come out anytime. I had the opportunity to get out of my lease. Even to transfer my job. But I was distracted. See around this time I had fallen in love (as you may notice this tends to be a continuing distraction for me). This was that future-life-together kind of love. The I-believe-I’ll-never-be-with-another-man-again kind of love. We had been ring shopping together. We were looking at apartments together. I was going to take the opportunity to get out of my lease, but not to move to California; to move into a condo downtown with him. “Once we get our apartment together I’ll start coming to California, I plan on living there part-time.” I naively explained to my Bestie. Looking back, that would have never worked. I was reaching a crossroads once again in my life where I needed to decide between following my dreams, or being in love, and whether I realized it or not at the time, I was choosing Love.

Then things started to get rocky in the relationship. It also started to become clear how starry-eyed my plans of a life split 50/50 between Atlanta and California truly were. Was I making the right decision to stay? To choose him over California. Would I be content having the love of my life even if I didn’t live all of my dreams in life? I had this conversation over margaritas with my closest girlfriend. She could also relate to my plight of whether to chase the love or the money, yet neither of us knew the answer. I went home and prayed about it, asked God to show me what I needed to see and to guide me to the right decision. And, just like he has done for me so many times in the past, God showed me my answer. A few weeks later, approximately 2 months before our anticipated move-in-together date, it came out that he had a second house…. with a wifey and kids. A whole other life I knew nothing about.

Heartbroken and all I was back to my original plan: Get to California. Follow my dreams. Yet still, I was distracted. This time I had a free place to stay. A friend who had made the move from Atlanta to California and had a nice 3 bedroom townhouse. I would have my own room in exchange for helping him out with his business part-time. I only needed to buy my plane ticket. Still drowning in my emotions and in disarray from the humility I had recently faced my distraction this time was partying. I needed to focus on the money so I could execute my plan to leave but instead I was blowing it to try to numb my pains. I went out a lot, partied a lot, drank even more. I remember having my plane ticket money in hand and going to the club, blowing it all. I did this on more than one occasion. The Love was no longer stalling me from Cali, but the Pain was.

Something changed unexpectedly. I started to climb out of my depression and get back to myself. As it always does, the light at the end of the tunnel started to shine through and I got back on track. I got back to making money and enjoying life. Things were looking up and I was happy, but still distracted. This time it was the happiness. You see, when I left Tuscaloosa there was nothing good there for me. No friends, no happy life, nothing but pain and misery. In Atlanta however, I was living the dream life I worked so hard to obtain– correction, the life I hadn’t even dreamed I could have. A life I never knew existed until now… and I was going to leave all that behind? For a chance? A hope? A prayer? I got scared. It was too much to give up.

Nothing went as I planned. The goal was to be in California by August 2016, by my birthday. That birthday was spent with me still living in Atlanta. I was saving money, I was slowly taking the steps I needed to in order to leave yet I still had excuses. I needed to buy a new car, I needed to save more money, I was waiting until — happened and then I’d go. Distracted. As always, I was still distracted. My Bestie, who had extended the invitation for me to come visit, and I had fallen out and were not speaking. My option of the rent-free living expired as my friend ran into hard times and downsized his living arrangements. As the California Dream seemed to be slipping away from me again, God stepped in again….

That’s when things started to fall into place in a way that wasn’t always pleasant, but in a way where I had no choice but to jump back on my path. It started when an associate of mine, a Casting Director, called me for a potential role. This wasn’t the first time she had offered me a very nominal job such as this, yet this time they were filming in California. Surprisingly, I got the part and was on a flight to LA within a few weeks. All expenses paid, plane ticket, hotel room, a food allowance and even a check for my time which would compensate for being away from Atlanta. It wasn’t a long trip to California but it was one that no distraction, no excuse, could keep me from.

One month after returning from my California visit, I got a notification that the house I had been renting for the past 3 years had been sold. I had 90 days to move out. A few short weeks later I was gifted a plane ticket to San Francisco and an incredible friend took me to look at rentals. In those last few months of 2016 MY California transformed from a dream to a true possibility.

Dream job, dream house, dream car, dream life, dream wedding, So she moved to Atlanta and fulfilled all her dreams?

Well, Yes and No. Her Dreams were that of all small town girl who had never had much to begin with. She hadn’t dreamed Big enough.

The dream wedding never happened. She called it off 3 months before the scheduled date when she finally came to realize he would never be her dream man. She left him and moved out of that dream house, sold all her dream furniture and belongings, and eventually left that dream job. She knew she was unhappy when she was holding these Dreams so tightly but she didn’t know what it was to actually be happy until she found it. Until she let them all go.

I spent the next few years finding my way back to the path I had been detoured from. I regained my confidence, found my happiness, and started figuring out my next move. Atlanta had given me more than I had ever dreamed of having but I also started to see that I would reach my Max in Atlanta just like I had in Tuscaloosa. Meaning, my dreams would outgrow what the city had to offer me. Meaning, I would yet again have to leave for a bigger city. Atlanta was never meant to be the final destination and I was rerealizing this as I got back on track to my Life’s path.

By 2013 I had started plotting where my next move would be. Texas was the number one contender. Ironically, California was still my dream goal; yet it still seemed so far away, so unrealistic. Texas however, was more feasible and was still along my road to California as it would get me further west. I was worried about the money though, worried about not having a job, worried about having to struggle again. Then in 2014 an opportunity presented itself. An opportunity for me to leave Atlanta for a bigger city at virtually no cost to me and with no worry of finding a new job. I jumped on it, didn’t even hesitate to think it through. I was going to leave. Then the deal fell through. Just like that, no move. I actually felt glad, I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I slowed down on my path then but I still kept trekking ahead.

After I decided to stay in Tuscaloosa rather than attend UCLA I lost my focus on moving away. Perhaps it was because I was so caught up in my relationship and “playing house.” Perhaps it was because I was now facing the battles of early adulthood which included working long hours, attending my first College Classes, learning to be 100% self-sufficient, and struggling just to pay the bills. My dream of moving across the country seemed more and more unrealistic. It was so far away from everything I knew. It would be unbelievably expensive…. there was just no way. Yet I still always knew I wouldn’t be in Alabama forever, I just wasn’t sure where my next move would be.

Atlanta was the big city to those of us from Tuscaloosa. It was where we would go on class field trips, it was where you went when you wanted to go shopping for anything from the newest tennis shoes, the trendiest clothes, to getting your own (gold) grill. As I became an adult we would occasionally take weekend trips here. It was THE party city. I had always been so caught up my Cali dreams that I never really considered Atlanta as a potential city to relocate to; although many of my peers did. Nearly everyone I knew wanted to move to Atlanta, some people even had done so….although most of them returned to our small town after only a short period of time.

By 2007 I was doing fairly well for myself. I had a good job, decent apartment, had learned the ins and outs of being a grown up. Yet I was still miserable. There was too much baggage sitting at my door step, too much history in this small town, always a negative energy that I just couldn’t shake off. Towards the end of the year, my then fiancé’s cousin came to visit the family. He had made the moved to Atlanta and absolutely loved his new-found life. I was sold instantly. Perhaps it was because this dream seemed like a feasible one, or maybe it was because this was a plan my fiancé was on board with. Regardless of why I decided on Atlanta, I had made a decision, and now it was time to execute my plan.

I started working like crazy, saving as much money as I possibly could. The fact that I was now working towards achieving a goal, rather than just surviving day-to-day, truly motivated me. It made life more bearable. My relationship however was worse than ever. We parted ways and I moved into my own tiny studio apartment. It was a hard time in my life, everything seemed to keep going wrong, yet I found solace in the fact that I was executing my plan. That I wouldn’t be stuck in this life forever.

Even though my fiancé and I were on a break and were no longer living together, we were still close. I still felt like he was all I had. I was ready to go and leave everything behind, except for him. Throughout this entire process he never truly believed I was going to leave. Even when he accompanied me on a weekend trip to look at apartments in Atlanta, he didn’t think I was serious about this move. I called him early one Friday and asked him to go with me to pick up my U-Haul. I don’t think it was until we drove that truck off the lot that he realized I was really going through with this. I asked him if he wanted to come with me and he agreed (one of the biggest mistakes of my life). And that was it…. we were on our way to a new life in Atlanta. I had a rather ghetto apartment lined up. I had paid the deposit and first months rent. I had sent the money to have the utilities connected. I had a piece of shit car (that the 2 of us were going to share), no job lined up, and about $1000 in the bank.

After about 3 days of unpacking and getting settled in I knew I had to start generating an income. I had left a pretty decent job in Tuscaloosa and expected to have found something similar in Atlanta before I even made the move, but the lack of call backs or fact that I hadn’t received a single interview offer didn’t hinder my move. On day 4 as an Atlanta resident I drove around to a handful of restaurants and bars until finally one hired me on the spot. About 2 weeks later I spent my 21st birthday at a job fair where I was hired to work front desk at a Hotel. I started working nonstop… 2 full-time jobs, 90 hour work weeks, sometimes even doing a straight 24 hours of work with no sleep. My fiancé was never as motivated as I was. He gave up after the first month of not being able to find work. He missed his friends and family in Alabama, the local celebrity status he held in that small town. So he left, shortly after the first disconnect notice arrived at our door

I found myself all alone, in a new city, where I didn’t know a soul… no friends or family. I was working at least two times as hard as I had had to in Tuscaloosa and yet making less money, while my rent had nearly tripled in cost. Every month was a struggle just to pay the rent. My feet would hurt so bad from standing up at work all day that I would use my breaks to go in the bathroom and stuff toilet paper in my tennis shoes for more cushion. Aside from vending machine snacks I would eat one meal a day, usually a hot dog or peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I would get home for the night and literally pass out immediately, thankful I was going to get 4 hours of sleep tonight. I would have cried myself to sleep every night but there was no time or energy left for tears. Through it all I never regretted my decision, I never thought about going back to Alabama. I understood why so many people before me had packed up and gone back home but even with all the struggle and pain, I was happier in Atlanta than I had ever been in Tuscaloosa.

I moved to Atlanta on August 8, 2008. On June 1, 2009 I started a job that would forever change my life….. $50,000 a year salary before I turned 22, $70,000 before 25. My dream house, filled with brand new nice furniture that I had chosen rather than the used pieces I had struggled for before. My dream car, my dream vacation, all obtained on my own. The man who had previously abandoned me during my hardest times came back. Stupidly, I allowed him to enjoy these new-found pleasures with me. The things that I alone had worked to obtain became Ours…. and eventually I began to plan my Dream wedding. 

For as long as I can remember I dreamed of moving to California. I don’t recall when or why that thought even formulated in my mind. Perhaps it was because of the usual “Hollywood Appeal” the dream of being rich and famous. Perhaps it was because California was so far away from the small country town in Alabama where I grew up; it was pretty much as far away as I could ever get without leaving the country. I wanted to escape that small, mediocre, boring lifestyle even as a child.

The first memory I have of really voicing or planning for this dream was when I was in the 5th grade. My StepFather had a death in his family and relatives from all over flew into town. One of those being his Uncle and Aunt from Sacramento. I had never met them but they were immediately the coolest family members I had. They were an older couple, probably in their late 50s but they just seemed so hip. I was comfortable around these virtual strangers the moment I met them. My StepFather introduced me to them by telling them I want to move to California when I finish High School. That I want to go to UCLA and he doesn’t want me that far away without any family. They talked to me about California, about LA, and about Sacramento. They weren’t too keen on me going to Los Angeles but encouraged me to come to Sacramento and Northern California. To this day I remember how excited I was to just have had the conversation with someone. To slowly start to plan and build this dream so that it would in fact one day be my reality. God, that was nearly 20 years ago and I’ve still only visited the state once. Time to get the ball rolling!!

I never liked school but I was always good at it. I’d skip class or get suspended; not study for tests or turn in homework late and still pass the semester with As and Bs. For some reason book smarts came easy to me. As much as it may have bored me, this became my ticket out. I would put in more effort and excel in school. That would get me into the college of my choice and that would get me out of this pathetic southern town life that I so dreaded getting trapped in forever. My Grandparents had always put such an emphasis on us going to college that I knew this would be the only way they would “help” me leave. So that became my plan. I got my GPA up to  3.8, aced my ACTs, started building my college application by taking on Extra Curricular activities, like the Beta Club, and doing Community Service. It was hard, I didn’t really enjoy it, but this was my PLAN and I stuck with it.

The beginning my Senior year I was stressed. I knew I had to crack down and get a higher score on my SATs, I knew I had to start writing all those Admission Papers to accompany my college applications, but I was focused. I had been meeting with my Counselor/Advisor regularly about my goals.One meeting she had scheduled my Dad and Grandmother to attend. My Dad had never believed in me period, probably had never even listened to me rave about my plans to go to UCLA. When the counselor mentioned my desire to attend college in California he chuckled, “California? That sounds expensive.” Very matter-of-factly the counselor agreed with his statement, “It’s about $30,000 a semester.” WOW! $30,000?!? I knew it was going to be expensive but I couldn’t even fathom that amount f money, and that was only ONE semester? My Dad was pretty much a dead beat. He never really did shit for us growing up, we didn’t typically have much. My Grandparents had been wealthy in their younger years and while their increase in age and all the issues that come along with this had significantly altered their lifestyle, I just knew there was a College fund. I’m not sure why I thought I “knew” that but I was convinced of it. Had never in the YEARS of executing my UCLA plan thought that if I made it all happen I wouldn’t be able to go because of the cost. Call me a naive child, but I truly believed if I “earned” it I would receive it. My Grandmother’s mouth dropped at the figure, $30,000, but she didn’t say a word. I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Sure enough, when I got home from school my Grandparents sat me down, of course Dad was nowhere in sight, and explained that they simply could not afford to send me to a school that would cost $30,000 per semester, or even $30,000 per year. Perhaps I should consider going to the University of Alabama, at least for a few years. Or maybe I could get a scholarship. Well, while my grades, test scores, and achievements were great, they weren’t AMAZING. To get an academic scholarship into a school like UCLA would take MAJOR achievements. I just hadn’t achieved “enough.” You can’t get a scholarship for the Dance team?” My Dad would later joke. Sports scholarships are rarely awarded for what I refer to as the “Girly Sports.” As much skilled is required to do many of these it’s just not enough to earn you a full ride. SO NOW WHAT?

Honestly, in that moment I kindof gave up. I refused to even apply to the University of Alabama because I was so persistence my ENTIRE life that I wouldn’t end up there. I started slacking on my school work and my As dropped to Cs. Then second semester came along and I found myself moving in with my high school sweetheart. Now I had another reason not to leave. He was “The Love of My Life,” how could I leave him behind? Lord, was I naive. I applied to the local Community College and received a Full Academic Scholarship. How ironic was it that I used to laugh at the people who went there, referring to it as the “13th grade” of my High School; it was literally right across the street. I had always wanted to get as far away as possible and now not only was I not leaving, I was staying in virtually the EXACT same place.

After my scholarship was secure I stopped caring about my grades at all. I ended my last semester of High school with only Ds on my report card. All that planning had been for nothing, all that work had been in vain. The only thing that soothed the blow as they accounted my name and the school I would be attending at my Graduation Ceremony, was the fact that I was with this man that I though would supersede all my previous dreams. The one I thought would replace my Fairy Tale of California. So I put all my effort into him, all my hopes into him, all my plans into him, all my dreams into him. I gave up on that glittering, golden star covered dream of California and settled for the exact same situation I had spent all those years trying to escape. I shredded the escape plan I had worked so hard to draft, I threw in the towel after all the work I had put in just as i was insight of the finish line. I was accepted to both the University of Miami and UCLA but I chose to attend my Hometown’s Community College.