State of the Union...

Again it appears I've taken a sabbatical from the keyboard...but thanks to some inspiring friends who, without provocation, admitted they missed my blogging days, I'm back at it for what I hope to be a semi-regular ritual. It's strange to me that people enjoy the ramblings of my inner mind. Writing for me is self-preservation, a spiritual process of therapeutic thought cleansing. It's definitely not a way for me to send a message to the world...if anything I get nervous about people reading my blog. So for the three of you that are still with me... please be kind, I don't take criticism lightly.

But enough rambling...

I feel that a return to my blog necessitates a "state of the union" summary, or more appropriately, a "state of Laura's life" summary. There are two major changes that have occurred since my last post:

1. I've moved from NYC back to my hometown Atlanta, GA
2. I've decided to leave the field of Advertising
   

New York was by far, the biggest adventure of my life. But it was always just that... an adventure. I new that there was an expiration date on my time as a resident, but I never knew when that day would come. At first NYC is an intoxicating place, the people, sounds, trains, smells, rush, rush, rush...there's a high you get from being thrown into the middle of that crazy city. And to top it off... you suddenly feel important; people are impressed with you simply because you live there, so your ego starts to feel pretty good too. But after a while, the buzz wears off and you wake up with a headache because the only apartment you can afford is next to the power plant steam stacks that blast you awake at 7 am on a Saturday...or because when people visit you, they ask what the smell is, you realize it's garbage and that you can't smell it anymore because the odor is permanently fused with your nasal cavity...or because in the middle of your 60 hour work week you realize you can't remember the last time you felt the cool rush of a mountain stream on your bare feet...or because you haven't had a hug from your mom in 6 months.

The buzz wore off and then the things I missed began to trump the things I had come to love. By the end of my time in NYC, I was living with Sean. My job had become increasingly stressful, so much so that I had to see a doctor about debilitating stomach cramps and digestive issues. Everything began to stress me out because I didn't have any means to find mental and emotional balance. I could not escape people, I could not escape concrete, the smell of garbage, subway trains, street sludge, homeless people, work... NYC is not a place for the claustrophobic and I was being suffocated from all angles. Even at home, our apartment was so small, I could not find a spot where I couldn't hear Sean, a car alarm on the street, my downstairs neighbor's TV, someone cussing out their boyfriend on the sidewalk. I began to crave broad streets, homes that didn't share walls, dogs, backyard bar-b-cues, spontaneous road trips, peace, quiet, wilderness. I tried yoga, early morning runs on the river, but my soul felt incomplete.

Even more unfortunately was that Sean fared worse than me... his lack of success in the editing world, long commute, lack of friends, stressful job, and hatred of crowds, sent him spiraling into a depression that was hard on both of us. I chose NYC and therefore, even when things got tough, I felt obligated to embrace it...Sean followed me there, it was never his dream, and so when the buzz wore off, he rejected it. On weekends he would stay in the apartment while I went to parks by myself, brunch with a friend, or shopping... he was miserable and so was I.

After almost two years, the decision was hard, but once it was made, it felt like all of Manhattan was lifted off my shoulders. I could breathe...I was going home.

It's been over a year since we returned to Atlanta in May of 2008. Just like in my dreams, Sean bought a house with a big backyard, I play fetch with our dog, we have game nights with friends, bar-b-cues with family, we take road trips to the beach. The knots in my stomach have gone and Sean and I can laugh together once again.

There is one thing that's clear -- I did not fail. In addition to being the biggest adventure of my life, New York was also my biggest success. Yes, I left, but on my own terms. When I left New York, I was debt free, financially thriving (even turning down a $20,000 pay raise), professionally successful, independent and confident. They say that you discover yourself in college, but I disagree. I think that real life is what stretches us and makes us prioritize our personal values and passions. In my two years in New York, I learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. Yes, I could have made a successful career of advertising, moved up to a mid-town loft apartment, then bought my own two bed-room condo on the Upper East Side by the time I was 40. When I moved to New York, this was all a possibility, but after two years I knew myself better than that. I knew that path would not make me happy. Atlanta may not be my dream town, but I knew it was better than New York. I learned that I don't want to spend my life chasing more money, bigger titles, bigger desks. I don't want to be sucked up into corporate America where you answer your Blackberry emails at 2 am, during a dinner date, or at your dad's birthday party...because you forget what is really important.

At the onset of my journey, my uncle had forewarned me that some courses must be altered. He was right. But changing your course does not imply failure, instead, its a byproduct of enlightenment.

If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't. I'm happy to have been where I have been. I'm proud to speak of what I've done and what I've learned. I'm looking forward to future adventures and hope to never cease on my quest for self-discovery...because the more I learn about myself, the more I think I'm a pretty cool person.