It has been about four months since I’ve been back here, writing again. Quite honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I am back, or what has prompted my return. I’ve secretly been struggling with the thought of this blog, and how I wanted to move forward with it. Well, I’m here–and I can’t think of a more appropriate way to get my thoughts and words out than beginning with another big life event–my move.
It’s hard to believe that I am currently finishing my third full week in my new city, my new home–San Francisco. The past few weeks have a been a whirlwind, with ups and downs you cannot begin to imagine. Ultimately, this city is a complete breath of fresh air, a new beginning, and I could not be more happy with my decision.
San Diego will always be home. I completely stand by my thoughts months ago, when I considered San Diego to be “my finest city.” The ocean, the salt air, the beautiful weather, the closeness to my childhood home, the culture, the food–how could one go wrong? When I left San Diego in May, I was torn about my departure. My summer with Backroads provided the ultimate escape and the ultimate opportunity to attempt to leave. If I really wanted to, I could move back after my season was over. No big deal.
I thank God everyday for giving me that opportunity. Because it gave me the security I needed at the time to “temporarily” leave a city near to my heart, a city with far too many memories that will forever be a part of me.
Moving back was never an option. After months away, what would happen? Same old routine in the city that was home for six years? No. My mind is too wild to settle, and that city needed to start becoming a part of my past. I needed a change of pace, an escape from a place that I did not think had anything to offer me anymore, at least at this point in my life.
Enter, San Francisco. Thank you for the fresh start.