The Blessing of Not Getting What You Wanted

Finally closing out the summer, and I cannot front, this one for the record books!  I told myself that I'd be turning up all season and I certainly didn't disappoint. I just got back from Los Angeles and got to see an old friend and celebrate his wins.

I got to LAX and went straight to the car rental place. I'd been craving it for months, so I went to the closest Bossa Nova (Brazilian steakhouse). Driving down Rosecrans, it hit me how much I'd missed this. But this time was different. I could finally do it! I was free! I'd missed the openness and the opportunity in the air. It occurred to me that this time was different because I could finally press go on things. My son is away at college and I have a job that allows me to work from home. The job comes with a cost of living increase, so making a jump to L.A. would be pretty seamless. Plus that stupid eviction moratorium was lifted so I'd have no issue finding proper housing.

I sat down at Bossa Nova and enjoyed my paella and pao de queijo and washed it down with a passionfruit margarita. I immediately started doing the math in my head- how long I'd want to stay gone, how much it would cost to move, how soon I'd want to leave, how this time I wouldn't plan to pack up my whole house to take with me. I grew excited and decided that this time I wouldn't say anything until I'd already made the move. I looked at my travel notebook at the long list of shops, restaurants and attractions I'd hoped to see this time around. I thought briefly about Fred, but more so hoping that I wouldn't run into him, not the longing that I typically held for him. I grew a little sad that most of the people I'd known in L.A. have since left. The cost of living and the crime made most of them decide that as they get older, they can no longer justify the high prices and it was time to settle somewhere else. Most of my people eventually went back to the city they originally moved there from.

Gotta admit, the Olympics is also on my mind. I've considered a visit out for it, but coordinating it has been my challenge. Mostly where to stay because I know that the hotels are gonna tax like hell the whole time. I'd even started to think that moving there before the Olympics would be crazy expensive, but moving there afterwards may grant me a bit of a financial advantage. I pulled up to my friend's new home and was pleasantly surprised at how warm and inviting it was. I'd asked him if I could crash with him for the games and he told me that I'd be beyond welcome. Still considering it.

The next day, I got to do more exploring. The weather was hotter than I'm used to, because I normally visit around my birthday in June, and the temp normally hovers around 75 during that time, especially around the beach. The Valley, which is essentially the desert, stays hot af. The Santa Monica Mountains separate the Valley and Los Angeles Basin, the cooler area by . But late August smacked me in the face with how freakishly hot it is. No bigs tho, I'm a Southerner, certainly won't be the first time in my life that I've been this uncomfortable because of heat.

But I also started to observe things a bit more. Like how heavy the traffic is. Damn, y'all living like this?! Can't front, working from home for the last 4 years, I've grown accustomed to not having having to navigate dodging rush hours. Still though, not the worst thing in the world, I suppose. One thing that bugged me though- how damn aloof these drivers are. Like how tf you just driving slow af in the left lane with absolutely zero awareness of the cars behind you?! Spend enough time in L.A. and you see that it isn't just traffic, that's really how people here. They really don't take a second to consider the world around them. It feels like there is absolutely zero upstairs, like the whole city is nothing but zombies. I noticed a similar pattern in Florida. I wanna chalk it up to the 24/7 sunshine, I dunno. 

Anyway, I recall that being a challenge for me the last time that I was here. As a Southerner, you just grow accustomed to being pleasant and overall watching your surroundings. The Industrial Revolution started in the Northeast part of the country, which leads to the east coast having more hustle and bustle. It's literally how we're socialized here. Like we're supposed to be pleasant, but work hard. And L.A.'s social climate is much more like "no worries." I mean, I get it and I can appreciate it to a degree, but the amount of people who exist in a complete fucking bubble is absurd. As I spent the next few days navigating the city, I'd seriously started to ponder if I still want this. The traffic, the weird ass self-absorbed people, most of my buddies left. Everything really is high as hell in L.A. too. 

Then, on my last day there, I got word from a loved one that a mutual of ours is about to sell her house in order to divorce and split the proceeds with her soon-to-be-ex. Even though my friend hadn't told me about the divorce herself, I was instantly outraged for her. I recall that for years she'd talked about wanting a house, how she'd taken the classes and done all of the work to prepare for this moment. Only to find the end of the marriage led to her losing her precious house. To be fair, she and I hadn't talked like that for a few years now, so perhaps she was ready to downsize.

It all landed pretty heavy for me. I personally know and love all of these women. I couldn't help put to put myself in their shoes. I can't imagine going through what I went through for my house, only for my marriage to end and being told that I need to sell my home, only to give any of my equity to him. I swear fo' GAWD, I'll burn this bitch down with us in it first!!

It took me back to those many relationships that I'd struggled and prayed for. How I'd put my hopes and dreams into keeping what I now see as those dead-end traps, and how devastating it would be to lose it to a man who was never fully dedicated to the relationship to begin with. I wrestled with a mix of guilt and gratitude. How relationships look so great on the surface, only to realize that so many women are losing their peace, their edges, their health, and even their houses in it all. It's like those moments that I prayed to keep a man, the spirits were up there going "nah sis, we got something even better for you," and sure enough, they delivered. I have told many people that "aside from my child, the only good thing my ex ever did for me was to not marry me," and I stand 10-toes down on that statement.

About 2 days into my trip, I started to remember what bugged me about L.A. The traffic, obviously. Although working from home means that I won't struggle as much with it. But then I remembered how unabashedly lonely this city is. Like how you'll have millions of people in one major city, who don't really talk to one another. They don't really do community like that, and it shows. After I'd lived there originally, I fully understood the Red Hot Chili Peppers song, "Under the Bridge." The song is about how even with tons of people in the same city, everyone is lonely. I get it now. They don't do embrace of the community like the South. I'm a bit too much of an extrovert to live in such a non-social place.

On top of everything else, on my final day there, I'd checked out of my hotel and decided to finally stop by a beach for the first time during that particular visit. I don't recall the name of the beach, but not surprisingly, the water was cold af. I'd rolled my pants up to my knees, but the water still managed to splash up my thighs while I tried to talk to my bestie about how I was feeling. On my normal travels, I take a small sample of sand, for my growing collection. But I said out loud to her, while complaining about my jeans now soaked in salty sea water, how damned filthy the beach was. Litter everywhere! It was seriously the first time since I'd started collecting sand that I made a conscious decision not to take any home with me. It just didn't seem like a memory or keepsake that I wanted to keep. And so many people to be out enjoying the early Sunday morning, as if every other foot didn't contain some bit of trash on the ground. It felt like a final omen.

I'd started to consider if this was still the move that I wanted to make. Not only is this city lonely af, most of the people I know there have since moved. I work from home, so I won't have an office buddy to help me get acclimated. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty socially savvy and I have faith that I can make my way into a few different social scenes if needed, but that just seems so extra at this point in my journey. I'd started to think that instead of doing a year or two in L.A., perhaps I'd drop it to 3-6 months in a sublet instead? I'd also started to think about other places I could go. I'd started thinking about doing 6 months in Washington D.C., some time out in Jersey, near Philly, with family.  Possibly another part of the state, like Northern Cali or maybe NYC for a few months?

Overall, I'd established that Atlanta is gonna stay as my home base. That's where my house is, it's where my friends and family are. It's where my home is. Atlanta is home. There was a lot of things that I thought I'd wanted. And now that I have the freedom to make any and all of the choices I want, I'm no longer operating in desperation and chaos. I'm finally free to operate in peace and intention. My spirits knew what they were doing, even when I didn't. Seems like a win to me.