In less than 48 hours, I have fully moved into my new life in New York City and I am both overwhelmed at how quickly things worked out and almost afraid to see what the next 48 hours hold. I left St. Louis Friday the 15th– sold my car around 7 am for $200, and boarded my plane at 8:40.

Not one to show emotions, or nurse the emotions that I do have, I didn’t think that the move to New York would affect me as much as it did. I sat at gate E 14 and rushed to text my friends and my mother my thoughts as I was experiencing them, hoping that they could attempt to make sense of how quickly things were happening. Mid text, a friend of mine said something along the lines of ‘so many people wish they could do what you are doing, but don’t have the courage to do it.’

Cue the waterworks.

For me, moving to New York isn’t about courage. I’ve always allowed my intuition to fuel my decisions such as launching CF Magazine instead of getting a “real” job, or applying to my assistantship although the date of the posting was 3 months previous, or going to London. Moving to New York City was more than just courage. In that moment, I realised that the dream that I’ve held for my entire life was coming into fruition. Following the dream you’ve had your whole life takes a blind faith that is impossible to describe and even harder to do. My favourite movies are in New York City (The Devil Wears Prada and Breakfast at Tiffany’s), my favourite TV show is based in the city, my favourite bands are New York-made. And, above all, my greatest dream was (and is) to be a novelist and to live and breathe works of fiction that had been penned in New York City.

This is my moment. And, at 8:35 on Friday, I realised that I was living the life I imagined. I cried and prayed the entire flight, sweat glistening on my palms and tears slowly running down my face. We flew past the Statue of Liberty and I caught a glimpse of the Chrysler building and all I remember thinking is, “I’m ready. Get me off this fucking plane, I’m ready.”

Since then I have had two interviews for a full time job, partied in Times Square, made new friends, had another interview for a part-time job, snagged two jobs, and just recently (as in 30 minutes ago) found an apartment.

Everything is happening so fast and for someone who makes decisions based on what my heart tells me, it is really difficult to figure out the next step. All my heart wanted was New York City and now that I’ve got it, I am quite literally writing the 24-year-old version of “Sylvia Plath at 17.”

So far, I’ve learned that hard work really does pay off- in the past month I applied to 85 jobs all in NYC. I stayed up until 2 a.m. looking for jobs, I’ve gotten up at 6 a.m. just to study the streets and subway. I made a point of proving to God and myself that I would work hard for this, and while I am in a state of flux over my NYC future, I know that everything will be okay.

You have to trust yourself and know that when you follow your heart, you won’t ever make a decision you regret.

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