One year in San Diego
Today marks my one-year anniversary in San Diego. A year ago yesterday, I was driving through the desert with the then-boyfriend, my car packed to the brim, feeling incredibly worn down and nursing a horrible cold. I don’t think I’ll ever do that 12-hour stretch between Boulder and Vegas again, especially after that trip.
A year ago today, I arrived to a cute apartment and the beautiful San Diego sunshine (though that sunshine is notably absent today). I haven’t seen snow since (and I admit that I do miss it). I have plenty of times regretted my decision to move to San Diego, though I never outright admitted it; it was better to pretend that I was sincerely enjoying myself when instead I truly believed that I had made the worst decision of my life. It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt that way, and now I finally feel like I’m in the right place.
What changed? Employment at a great company. A stable living situation. Great friends — not that I didn’t have some good friends before, but I know now who my real friends are. Seeing my family. Visiting Boulder for a weekend. And of course, a little bit of time; time does heal a lot, even if you’re depending on words or apologies that don’t come through… and probably never will.
I actually didn’t think I would make it an entire year. On three separate occasions, I very seriously planned on leaving. On one occasion, I had even made arrangements to get out of San Diego and try to find some work in Boulder. I’m glad it didn’t work out that way; had I given up just like that, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
I’ve said it a lot and I’ll say it again: getting out of my comfort zone was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but it has been the most rewarding. I’ve moved and lived somewhere far away all by myself besides coming to San Diego — in an entirely different country at that — but I knew what I was getting into then and I knew that I’d be returning home. Now that I’ve upped the ante, I know I’m capable of more.