I love change. I thrive off of it. But for the first time in my life I’m making a major change, and it’s surprisingly bittersweet.
I didn’t expect I would feel this way. I thought I’d leave my job and move and everything would feel like a simple progression that just made sense. I was sure it would be easy to leave home and forge a new one. But it’s not. It’s terrifying.
It wasn’t until recently that I realized that being from Tucson is a substantial part of my identity. All of my closest friends were born and raised here, and there’s a certain understanding about this city that we all share. When it’s a Saturday night and you don’t want to go to the same bar you’ve been to 400 times, it’s annoying. When you damage your tires because there are massive potholes everywhere, it’s terrible. And when it’s summertime and too hot to even step outside for a moment, it’s unbearable. But this strange little city is ours and we’re proud of it.
So although I feel ready to move on, I’m nervous. What if Los Angeles never feels like home for me? What then?