Girl On Fire

Hey, New York. I'm back.

While I was in the Philippines this summer, I thought that I was done with New York once and for all; that maybe all of the hoopla that happened with my perfect apartment happened for a reason, so that I could extend my trip, and/or begin a new chapter, because maybe, just maybe, my time in the greatest city in the world was up.

Then an opportunity absolutely blindsided me and suddenly NY was back on the table. What about those signs that I prayed about? Well, I got my answer, but I forgot to ask where to next, and when to make my move. And why had the option to return come about at all? Opportunities like this don’t just happen; not in this economy and certainly not in this industry.

It was time to (re)consider everything: New York? Florida? Or did I forget to check behind curtain #3? Paralyzed by my own indecision and perhaps fear, I went in circles.

The most reassuring thing was no matter what the final decision was, I had full faith that it would be a step towards the end goal. I considered the pros and cons of all of my choices. I made my lists, my charts, yanno, normal JT stuff. Money, moving, time… In the end, the deciding factor was me.

I love Florida, yanno. I can totally see myself there in the future. That was the thing though.  Maybe it's reserved for my future rather than my present.

I love my family. I love being so close to my friends. But I hate the person that I am when I’m home. I’m impatient, bratty, short tempered, not nearly as productive, kind of negative, and generally ho-hum; the complete opposite of the person I feel like I usually am everywhere else, with anyone else, and in any other situation.. I even wondered then, is that my true self? No. Because in every odd and new situation I put myself in, in every other experience, I’m that positive, level headed, overly cheerful and wildly optimistic person that I take so much pride in being. But when I’m back, it’s as if I regress to my former child state, because while I’ve grown and learned and moved forward in my journey towards becoming, to everyone at home, I am that impatient, short tempered brat.  You’re bucketed into your past self. I think that’s what happens though. You move away at 17-18, and when you return, to those people, you’re still that age; you’re still that person. You allow those projections to take a hold of you and react accordingly.

You have to like the person you are. You’re stuck with you forever, so you might as well try to be the best version of yourself.

But besides that, living in the shadows to silently hone away at my endless to-do list and slowly working my way on to the scene and market was not how I envisioned my grand return. Nope. When I get back for good, I want to set this place on fire. I want to walk in ready, and to put it quite simply, just shut it down.

Long story just slight shorter, I chose New York. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a real, functional, healthy relationship, but I’ve had two defining ones, and one of them is with this damn city. It has taken a hold of me once again and I just can't shake its grip. All right, New York. You have my attention. Right now, I’m all yours.