Around March 3rd…

I was nestled in my seat between the window and my duffle occupying the chair next to me (yes, I’m that person), feeling entirely discouraged. My first trip to NYC in search of the perfect (yet affordable—is that even possible?) apartment had come and gone and all I was left with was a sinking feeling as I headed home to Virginia.

As you know by now, New York has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I’m lucky in that way—I’ve always known E X A C T L Y what I want. Where my friends sat guessing what they’d be doing in the next 5-10-15 years; I knew I’d be in New York. Where they wondered what they’d possibly do as a career; I knew I’d be in magazines. Knowing the path that I intended to follow gave people this assumption that I had my head on straight. But, at that moment, scrunched up zoning out to Pandora, I felt as lop-sided as can be.

Just because I knew what I wanted to do doesn’t necessarily mean I had my head on straight. But how? Well, I may have known where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do and the general steps to get there—but never once did I truly think about the expenses it would require—and I’m not just talking money.

I was so zoned out that I didn’t even raise my head to say “a tout a l’heure” to my favorite place on Earth. I felt lost. I felt distant. Everything I had always dreamed of was right at my finger tips and all that was left to do was find an apartment and a way/will to get there in 2 weeks time to start my job—and I felt like I C O U L D N T do it. And how lame is that? After endless articles, internships, resumes, cover letters and interviews—and what was holding me back was my fear that I couldn’t do it.

Luckily for me, I have a Little. She’s my soul sister and its times like these that make me realize just how lost I would be without her. As my bus barreled down the Turnpike my thumbs were going full speed ahead bombarding her screen with my fears, “what-if’s,” doubts—you name it. I just needed to get it off my chest and although my mom was in the seat behind me and Stewart (my then-boyfriend) was just a text away—there was no one who would understand like Little.

I had told her that I couldn’t put my finger on it, but that I simply felt void—like something was missing—I didn’t have the same excitement about the city, about landing my dream. She guessed it was due to my fear of leaving Stewart and my friends and family and Ched Loon. She guessed that I was afraid of change and letting go of everything I’ve known for so long. She guessed that I was nervous to be entering a new phase of life and city all by myself.

She was right.

It’s never too lengthy with Little (okay, maybe sometimes if it’s a story or involves a boy), she generally keeps it blunt and to the point. And I swear to you, when it comes to reassurance, she could surely go pro and start a business in it. Like clockwork, in a way that has become so known to me in the past 3 years of knowing her, my phone began lighting up with videos and quotes and inspiration.

“It is scary to chase our dreams because, you know, what if we don’t make it, what if it’s not what we think it is? But the scarier thought is what if you never try? What if you have to live with the regret of a wasted opportunity?”

And just like that, I felt back on track—my head was straight, if you will.

Thank you Little for being my shoulder to cry on, my biggest supporter and my inspiration—always.


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