The girl with the DREAM Part 1

(Picture taken June 2015 in the Badlands, SD)

Where it all began.

I specifically remember this moment in my life where I realized I needed to get out. I needed to leave the only place I had ever known to grow. I needed to see what was out there. I mean, after all I didn't choose where I lived. None of us do. I was born and raised in Central Florida and it wasn't until I was about 19 years old for me to realize how much I needed to escape. This specific moment is one of those moments that changes your life forever.

I am about 19/20 years old and I am having yet another argument with my serious boyfriend at the time. I am sitting on the ground in the hallway of our home organizing a cupboard full of gift wrap, tissue paper and bags while yelling and crying and trying to express myself.

How I was changing and I was tired of feeling the things I felt.

The insecurity. The inadequacy. The suffocation.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. That I was meant for more. That I needed to get out. Yes, right there on that insignificant night on the terrible dark brown carpeted floors.

That prior year, I started to allow myself to dream and I started dreaming of New York City. I had family there and I knew it was a place of opportunity. I knew that I could find adventure there. I had been there. It was familiar and it could give me the things I wanted. So right there, on my hallway floor, holding wrapping paper...I shifted. I felt it. Just like I am feeling it now as I write this.

No, I did not move right away. I continued on in that relationship for about another year and finally altered my life by leaving. I moved in with my grandfather from that home and stayed with him until I could pick myself up from the heartbreak and struggle I was going through. In his home, I grew up. I was kinda on my own in which I mean I did not live with my parents (moved out of the house at 18 but with a boyfriend) and I was not living with a partner. My grandfather was very kind to me and let me be. I was basically a roommate. So I was able to explore myself and find some quiet in the slower paced household.

At 22, I moved into my own place. The cutest old apartment building you ever did see. Black and white tiled floors in the kitchen and bathroom. A clawfoot tub. Hardwood throughout. A fine example of an old office building turned into a space for living. It was above a coffee shop and my apartment smelt like toast every morning. I really really grew there. LIKE REALLY. I finally got my health in check, or so I thought and was moving fast. But still something tugged at me. With all the advancements I made from 21 to 22, I still felt stuck. I still dreamt of NYC and treated my little apartment like one would in Brooklyn. I would look out my window on the second floor overlooking downtown and as I held my morning coffee...I would day dream that I was anywhere but there.

I searched for this 'thing' in all the wrong places; in love and in obsessing over fitness/clean eating to partying like I had never partied before and just living really irresponsibly. Stumbling home drunk from the neighborhood bar with my whole behind hanging out of my skirt and not even aware of it kinda drunk. Looking for love in people that did not deserve my love. Some of whom I did not even know. I was numbing this same feeling I had had on the hallway floor that I had described before. The feelings of insecurity, inadequacy and suffocation.

Summer of 2014, (still 22 y/o) I met Travis. The love of my life.

He swept me off my feet even though I was kicking and screaming the whole way because I "didn't want anything serious or love". Very glad he didn't listen to me. Quickly in our relationship we both discovered that we had something in common besides our insane connection. That once in a lifetime all the stars aligned kinda love.

Besides that (that will be another blog post possibly)

our other commonality was travel. Just a few short weeks after I met Travis, we set up a trip to Savannah, Georgia. Just 3.5 hours away from my hometown DeLand, Florida. Just us. We planned to stay there for the weekend and just explore. Within that same week before we were destined to leave, my grandfather passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. Travis was there for me and I insisted we still go.

I knew if I had stayed in my hometown...I would have exploded. I would have sabotaged myself (something I was good at). We chose to go anyway and cut it a day short to attend the funeral. Just knowing me for only a few weeks Travis showed me his true side and stood by me in my grieving process that weekend. In that weekend, I knew he was my person to explore with. To finally get out of Florida with. We both had talked about that that weekend. I started to feel hopeful.

The reality is, at least for me. Moving away from the only family unit or community that I had ever known by myself was extremely tough to think of doing and I am not too prideful to say that I might not have done it, if it wasn't for him. If it wasn't for that reassurance from him that I could do it. That we could do it. Because like I mentioned before, I was still a little insecure, a little inadequate and the suffocation was finally lifting. I was working on it.

December 2014, the salon of my dreams in NYC was hiring new talent. I was a hairstylist and this finally felt like my big gig. My big break to spread my wings if you will and FLY. I applied online and was quickly greeted with acceptance for an interview. I mean, how crazy was that?? I immediately called my family and spoke with Travis about this opportunity and got support from all ends. I booked my 24 hour roundtrip ticket, took a personal day from work and got myself to the Big Apple for a shot at this. I listened to "Welcome to New York"song by Taylor Swift pretty much the entire trip and had an amazing experience shadowing in an upscale/very luxurious salon and being interviewed. I got the job but quickly realized I wouldn't be able to move to the city due to expenses and not getting paid enough to survive there. I was crushed. January 2015, I realized New York City might not be the next move for me. I didn't give up, but I did feel a little defeated. Travis was graduating from college in March and that was our next date to set out a new plan.

March 2015 after Travis graduated we hit the road again to drive up to Alabama, Tennessee and North Carolina in pursuit of adventure and happiness. That trip was our break. We did so well together in new spaces. I loved the rush of NO ONE knowing me and giving me a chance to start fresh with this incredible human I had just met 9 months prior. It felt right.

When we got back home, Travis started applying for jobs all around the country in cities we wanted to relocate to.

Austin, Denver, San Diego, Portland, Asheville, Brooklyn, Salt Lake City and...Tacoma.

April 2015

Travis got a call back from Tacoma, Washington and within 2 weeks we had made arrangements to move literally across the entire country to start a new life on the West Coast.

We decided that I would stay back and move out at the end of May.

He left April and I was going to get to our new home at the beginning of June.

Waving goodbye to him in that moving truck was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. It took all of me to not run after him down the street early that morning.

(I later found out that Travis was fearful of me deciding to stay in Florida because he knew how hard the move was on me with leaving my family. He also said that he was fully prepared to move back to Florida if I didn't come. What a guy? <3 )

What made it even harder was that I hadn't told my employer yet so I had to go to work with a smile on my face like my heart wasn't broken. Those 2 months were very long. Lots of facetime, letters and text messages. You might be wondering why I stayed. I stayed for my sisters baby shower, I had to find someone to take over my lease, had to make a little extra money and I wanted to have those last days with my family. That was a hard one for me to cope with.

I struggled a lot with leaving my family. They were all I ever knew. My family was always there for me. I have wonderful loving parents, 3 beautiful and caring sisters, and tons of extended family that came to every single family function.

My sister was about 5 months pregnant with her first child at the time and it tore me up to not possibly be there for her when her little man arrived (luckily I was able to be there for the birth of her 1st and now 2nd child) not to mention during the end of her pregnancy. I have 2 very young sisters that are in high school/play volleyball and that was also difficult for me to come to terms with knowing I would miss them growing up. If we are being completely honest, I still struggle with feeling like I failed as a big sister because I left. I know that is entirely not true, but I am a nurturer, a lover and I was always there for them and around when they needed me. Leaving definitely made me feel less than in that department.

Those last few months in Florida, I went to the beach more, I had more family dinners (those happened often anyways) and I made it count. My family threw me a going away party and my sister organized the whole thing like a Washington theme. It was beautiful and it was emotional. I felt tugged in every direction. I felt excited knowing that I had a new life planned out on the West Coast but also felt extremely devastated that I was leaving the only place and people I had ever known for this "what could be/the grass is greener" type experience.

See, I never went away to college. I never left the East Coast or traveled further west than Texas. This small town Florida girl was terrified. But I was also hopeful and I had faith that it would all sort out. Crushed me to hear people say that they could never do this because they love their family too much. I love my family too much and it is not because I am not close with my family that I could do this or that I was not scared or hesitant. I just parted with my past and looked forward, you know? I dreamed more and thought less. Thinking too much will get you in trouble. I didn't have the answers on how it would work out and I was ok with that. Maybe we were reckless for moving across the entire country without a place to live or tons of money. But we were able to do it and if I am not proof of that, then I don't know what is. I was able to save up $3k before I left and moved across the country without a job.

I survived. I made it work. I don't really know how, but I do know that I stayed true to what I wanted in the end and that was a new start. A fresh beginning. Adventure. And I had a dream that I needed to start living...

TO BE CONTINUED...

(next blog will be the actual move across the country. 3,050 miles in 4 days and how I did that with my Dad, my 2 puppies and a moving truck)

Thanks for reading,

Kelxx

"When you run make sure you run, to something and not away from, 'cause lies don't need an airplane, to chase you anywhere"

-The Avett Brothers