So. I moved. I didn’t move to another city, just a new neighborhood and they seem like very different neighborhoods.

I lived in East Lakeview for 3 years. Prior to that I lived in Lincoln Park with my sister for 2 years. When I went from roommate living to solo living, I had a really hard time accepting that transition. In fact the day I moved into my studio apartment in East Lakeview, I threw up and cried. I was so afraid that moving into a studio and being on my own meant that I failed. I failed at finding people who wanted to be around me and my relatively out going nature would turn into a hermit.

That obviously did not happen.

I actually think the opposite happened.

Suddenly, I was given the choice of whether to be alone or to be around people. Without no roommate/sister to come home to, I didn’t have that comfort zone anymore. Suddenly I forced my to go out more, network, meet people. And more I knew it, I was navigating around and feeling awesome.

Somewhere between then and now I started to feel like I needed to shake things up. I was becoming comfortable in my life and as lovely as comfortable sounds. Being comfortable makes me anxious. It makes me feel like I’m not pushy myself hard enough. I’m not challenging my skills, personality, etc.

So what did I do?

I started freelancing. I pursued everything and anything I was interested. Built up a presence for me in the travel blogger world. Got social then quit my non-for-profit job and started working for an agency. Being “social” got a lil different. More structured.

Now here I am.
In a new apartment.
Everything is fresh and new.
And I’m wondering if I’ve become stagnant.
Career wise.
Life wise.

Sometimes it’s funny
to look back on where you’ve been…
and where you are now.
As much as things change, they do stay the same.

The vase I bought in Jordan on the table I bought at Ikea
in both my apartment then and my apartment now