Happy one year, LA.
Happy one year, Los Angeles.
One long, sunny, challenging, growth and tear-filled year. And boy, you’ve taught me a lot.
When I think about where I was last February, I feel a lot of compassion for the Elise I was then. She was scared—embarrassed about not making it on her own yet, trying so hard to find the answers, full of longing and love and restlessness. It still makes me feel weird to talk about, much less share on the Internet.
One year ago, I’d put a stop on my love for light, color and capturing beauty. I was restless, depressed and burnt out (at least I told myself), and was convinced that the world was taking something out on me by not putting me on the track I envisioned for myself. I was bitter. I wanted sunshine, challenges and the fulfillment of a new city—of this city where I’ve been for an entire year today.
Life took my wants, and handed them to me, but with a twist! A lot of unexpected—er, stuff—in the process. Life is funny that way. Because damn if this hasn’t been the hardest—albeit sunshine-filled—year of my life. But I’ve learned a lot because of you, LA. Here goes:
People are kind of mean here. It is not the South, where people are nice to you in person and maybe mean about you in the comfort of their own (affordable! Can you even believe the difference in housing costs!) homes. People will yell at you from their cars in the midst of traffic-induced rage, no one really just smiles at you on the street, and I’ve been asked if I “needed to look at my resume to know what I’d actually done in life” in a job interview.
But people are also really nice here. When I complimented her haircut, a bartender launched into a 5-minute lovely and unsolicited speil of how she thought I was cute and trendy (ME? IN THIS CITY?!) to the point I was blushed from head to toe. The family who lives across from me in my apartment complex always lends us baking supplies when we need them and lets us know when the washing machines are free. The clerk at the shop around the corner always tells me I smell good. The barista at my neighborhood coffee shop always calls me “love.” I’ve never gotten as many compliments on my tattoos (perks of not living in the South?). New friends let me rant and vent and be excited and commiserate and rejoice with me.
Comparison doesn’t get you anywhere but down on yourself. I’m the self-proclaimed (ashamedly) queen of comparison. I’ve always looked at the both incredibly talented and successful people around me and wondered why it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me because I haven’t been trying! And maybe it isn’t me because sometimes people get lucky and I haven’t yet. But mostly, I just have to do more. I’m talented too. I just don’t see it in myself all the time.
I am working on this.
I will and do get homesick.
It is hard to watch everyone and everything continue and grow and die from states away.
But I’m still a part of it.
Friends are hard to make as an adult. I don’t know how people do this. They should really make guides on how to do this if you’re not a natural extrovert who isn’t intimidated by every cool person you see on the street. I’m lucky to have made a few friends. They’re good ones.
LA traffic is exactly as bad (maybe worse?) as people say it is.
Car insurance is a scam.
Los Angeles is tough, and expensive, and you always need moisturizer because there is truly no humidity. But it’s beautiful. Even with the smog.
There will always be people with a lot more money than me.
But creativity (and contentment) is priceless.
I’ve learned more than this, but I’ll keep them for me, and hopefully keep you reading to this point. I’ve learned that I’m more loved than I realized, by my parents (hi Mom and Dad), my sisters, my family, my best friends.
I am so grateful for my family, for Travis, for those who stuck it out despite my confusion and crying and depression and regret from my move. I still sometimes feel bitter and restless and wonder about my path. But hey, I’m happier now. I called my apartment “home” for the first time the other day, and I hope this city starts feeling more and more like one.
So cheers, LA, for a weird, whirlwind, hell of a year. Let’s cry less this year, but grow more, and love more, and create more this year, alright? Alright.
