A couple months ago, I was given the opportunity to relocate for work, in none other than New York City. Since I was a child, I would watch movies and television centered in New York. The people were free, wild creatives that fed off what the city could give them. I took these messages in and thought that it was the place I was meant to be. All the people I adored and respected from movies, to music and TV, loved and lived in New York, so naturally I had to, too. I'm 28 and college came and went and no jobs or internships were calling despite all my applications so I thought my chance had slipped me by. I made peace with it, then this came a long. It was an possibility to further my career and have new experiences. All of this coming right after a break up that shook me to my core, it seemed like perfect timing but not without it's challenges. I think the universe wanted to test how bad I really wanted this. Post negotiations, I was left to figure out how to move my entire life across the country. People who know me well know I am a planner, to a fault and this process was anything but smooth. I had to figure out how to make sure my previous boss and my current boss were comfortable and prepared for all the changes. I had to leave my old apartment ( and everything in it ) and find a new one. I had to see everyone I love and care about, at least once more before I left. People don't think of the tiny little details that you have to consider. When I land from the airport, where do I go to find an uber or taxi. When I finally get to my apartment what am I going to sleep on? How will I get what I'm going to sleep on, to my apartment? Okay, now you got a bed now you need a blanket and an AC, and pillows. After I started putting these things into place, I found out that I had another cyst. Another freaking cyst, on the opposite side. Not only was this another thing I had to plan but also another added expense I didn't need. I immediately had to take the steps to have another excision surgery. I have no more Bartholin's Glands. ( Take that Bartholin, who ever you are, you cruel bastard). I also had to consider taking care of my body while making this incredibly exciting but extremely stressful move. Rest, while working from home in pain but pretending everything is fine. While all of this was going on, I was reminded of the amazing support system I have in my family and friends. People showing up for me in so many ways, was humbling. From coworker's encouragement, to tearful goodbyes with families, this time has so emotionally taxing but in the most beautiful way. Today, I'm writing this from new studio apartment in New York City, with nothing but a bed, a TV and my thoughts. It's difficult being faced with loneliness and fear. There have been days so far where I definitely have not left my apartment. However, everyday gets a little better, every day I remind myself that I am my Magrande's wildest dream and it's a responsibility I take seriously. I am a girl from a small border town, where some people stay their entire lives and aren't granted with such opportunities and I never not think about that. I never not think about my humble beginnings. The little girl who would walk to the corner store to buy pickles with my cousins. The little girl who thought Chili's was fancy. I think about my niece and nephew and pray that they will think of their Tia and be proud and inspired and never feel abandoned by me. I also think about how when I moved to Houston when I was 15 and knew no one and how difficult it was to acclimate and make new friends. Then again, when I moved to Austin. The only constant thing in life is change, but in my case the other constant thing I have is the support of my loved ones. I have to do this for them. When things get hard here, I have to keep pushing as I always have, as my Mother has taught me. To hold me head up, and be strong. To give them hell.
