Deciding to move across the country is a huge decision that takes a special kind of person, never the less doing it alone. I was living in Vermont, I had lived there for 2 years and had initially moved there for a boy (surprise). This wasn’t your typical “I moved for a boy” story though. He and I had been through so much together, he was my first boyfriend and was in recovery. We went through his relapses together and I supported him every step of the way so when his aftercare counselor told him he needed to move out of the state I didn’t know what to do. Long story short he lived at a sober house, we did the long distance thing, I moved up there, we broke up (he didn’t put in much effort and I felt we were growing differently) and I stayed in Vermont until I felt I had gotten all that state had to offer for me. Before moving across the world I took two separate three month trips to Australia, the first one I did alone at 18 and the second one I did with a coworker at 19 and it was spectacular. I’ll be writing a blog post about that life changing experience as well!

Here are two incredibly embarrassing pictures from that time. As we can see I’ve changed for the better, thank goodness!

After my Australia excursion I learned that the world had so much more to offer than the Northeast. Coming from Connecticut and moving to Vermont I was only used to that small town small city, nature laden, land locked lifestyle. There’s nothing wrong with either of those places they’re both beautiful and offer a great adventure for some but they did not fit what I wanted.

I was working at a restaurant in Vermont and I liked to work 80 hours a week. It sounds crazy but my boss didn’t care he didn’t pay overtime and the people I worked with were so incredible that I didn’t mind the workload at all. I was always the highest energy there, I truly did love that job for a couple years. My boss started caring about overtime hours a few months before I decided to move and I had to pick up another job at a breakfast place. This was where the burnout started and I started to resent both of my jobs and by proxy both of my bosses.

There I was, closing up the patio after working breakfast with a one hour break till my closing shift. Good times.

The actual decision to move to Florida was so incredibly impulsive (hello, Libra) that I didn’t even really give my best friend and roommate enough time to find a new place. Sorry Deirdre, love you (she actually lives in Miami now). I packed up all my furniture in a Penske, recruited my incredibly kind and understanding mother, packed my two seat Benz full with crap and we were off towing the Benz behind a 16 foot Penske down to Florida, she drove, I was much too terrified I was going to whip my car off the back.

The question people always asked me when they found out I was moving alone was how did I choose a location? I’m going to be honest, not a ton of research went into it. I saw some pretty places, knew I didn’t want Miami or Lauderdale as those cities are much too overwhelming for me. I went with a slightly toned down Lauderdale in West Palm Beach. I found a one bedroom apartment before I moved, I had never been to the area so I was really going in blind.

I also did not have a job but I figured it wouldn’t be very hard to find a job in the service industry in Florida, all people do down here is eat and drink. Boy was I wrong. The apartment was nice, the community was a little further from downtown than I’d like but whatever. It took me a month or so to find a job, I had some savings but they were dwindling especially with the cost of the Penske eating away at my credit card. I finally found one 45 minutes away from where I lived at a fine dining Italian restaurant, definitely not my style but I wasn’t in any position to turn down a job. I had to wear a bow tie and all, I had a picture but I’m sure I deleted it in shame, sorry to deprive you of that visual. I went through three restaurants terrible training process before I found the job that I thought would be best for me. It was closest to my apartment and it seemed as though I would make the most money there.

The whole job and housing story is a totally different post because I did NOT have an easy transition. I wish I could tell you that it was seamless and I went down there and it was all rainbows and butterflies but no, South Florida is a different breed. The people here are mostly incredibly shallow and super hard to get along with without them talking shit about you behind your back. The job industry is corrupt, bosses are just coke heads who became managers and you are reminded that you’re easily replaceable every day. It was not an easy transition but tough times breed tougher people if you can make it through. I slept in my car, on the floor of my coworkers house (that housed 4 other people and 6 dogs mind you), I lost 5 jobs, got my wallet stolen, and moved 8 times. But hey, at least the ocean is across the road, right?

Moving across the country was terrifying, uncertain, and risky, Florida is not my last move but I’ve finally found a good routine here, I wouldn’t trade the experiences, the street smarts, and the strength it helped me to develop for anything. It might not feel like the right decision for you, I’m not telling you to pick up and go move across the country but if you feel like you’ve exhausted your time in a certain state and you’ve hit your ceiling there you might consider it. It’s never going to feel like the right time and it’s probably going to feel really scary and possibly even like the wrong decision, trust your gut, do what feels right, and make it work if you want to. Remember: nothing is permanent and you can always move back!