I moved to New York City for a girl.
I think that fact was only known by 8 people in my life prior to this very public post. I had been dating a woman for almost a year, making frequent, monthly, trips to NYC to see her, she was making trips to Cincinnati to see me, and two years ago I made the decision that I wanted to be closer to her. Before that point, living in NYC was never on my life roadmap. I remember being in the city visiting her the first week of September 2016 and a company called me asking if I wanted to come in for an interview.
I went in on a Friday, interviewed, and found out that day they were offering me a position. “Marketing Coordinator”. Starting one week from Monday. 10 days. I hadn’t packed a bag. Discussed with my parents I was moving. I still owned my car. Had a two bedroom apartment full of stuff. Had a dog. My entire life was in Cincinnati, I didn’t have anywhere to stay in New York City, and I had just accepted a job that started in 10 days. Time to panic.
What a week that was. Selling all of my worldly possessions, selling my car. Getting out of my lease. Finding a home for Lucy. By Saturday, two days before I was starting my new job, I had sold almost everything I owned, told my mom and dog goodbye, and had two suitcases of stuff to my name, off to live in NY. In an AirBNB week to week close to where my girlfriend lived.
I got to New York and I remember the first news I got when I touched down was that a bomb had gone off in Chelsea. Now, I didn’t know where Chelsea was, but I remember my mom calling me and telling me “it’s time to come home now”. Had she known that Chelsea was where my new job was, and that the explosion happened 6 blocks away from where I was going to be working, I think she would have come to NYC and dragged my ass back home.
I remember not being phased. Going into the city that night and walking around Times Square. I remember the AirBNB was a hostel for my first two weeks. No locks on the door. People coming in and out at all hours of the night and day. And me, with just my two suitcases. Always packed and ready to go to the next room, the next location, the next AirBNB. I did this for months.
I remember calling and texting the girl I had been dating for almost a year. We chatted, we texted, but we never saw each other again, not since the day I interviewed for my job. She ghosted me. I uprooted my life, I moved to NYC, I was living in a hostel for a girl who never really spoke to me much again, who had my dress suits in her apartment, and never even took the time to give them back.
I remember going in to work on my first day on the job. A dozen people were laid off the week before I started. In between the week that I interviewed and the week that I arrived. Chaos. The person who interviewed me and who was to be my boss was one of those laid off. I was starting at a company as the only marketing member of the team, with no real back knowledge as to what marketing worked and what they had done that didn’t work.
It was literally the most stressful, most difficult, most chaotic 7 days of my life. I think once I made it through my first week, I curled up in the fetal position in my bed and slept the entire weekend. I considered going home but what was that going to do. I was already in New York. Going home heartbroken and a failure was not an option. I was not going to admit that New York was too difficult for me.
So I decided to make the experience a positive one. I put my time and efforts into writing. Into my job. Into making new friends. And while it was difficult, man it didn’t get better for at least 10 months. During that time I really made some of the best friends you could ask for. People who never want anything from me, other than to just hang out. I’ve been promoted and given raises at my jobs more times than I can count, I decided to put my energies into things that I could control, instead of focusing on the bad things I could not.
And that’s what we have to do in life. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to tuck tail and run back to Cincinnati the same weekend I got here. Bombs going off, living in a building with scandalous individuals, and a girlfriend who ghosted me. I don’t think anyone would have even blamed me. But is that really what life is about? That when the going gets tough, you quit. I made a commitment to NYC. To the new job I was starting. And I wasn’t going to let them down.
I took the leap, and I am so glad that I did. In life we have opportunities for greatness. It may seem scary, it may seem like it’s not the right time. It may seem like you can come up with 1000 reasons as to why you shouldn’t be doing it, but if you take the leap, and you put forth every ounce of effort you can, the rewards will be astonishing. You have to keep taking chances.
It’s going to be difficult. I promise. Without immense failure, we will never see an ounce of success. We may think at times that God has given us too much. That we aren’t strong enough to handle what He’s throwing at us. But keep pushing through. Keep taking chances. Keep putting yourself out there.
The outcomes, what your life will become, the people who chose to surround you with no strings attached – You won’t be able to count all of your blessings, but you will feel extremely blessed. And instead of cursing the girl who ghosted me, I thank her every day, because without her, these dreams of mine would never have come true.
What’s holding you back from chasing your dreams? What hatred in your heart is being harbored that needs to be released? What do you need to drive you to your leap of faith? Where is your happiness?
Live life. Love life. Leap.
Let me know what you think in the comments! 👇🏼