The Truth About The “Transitioning” Phase

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move” – Robert Louis Stevenson

I finally did it. I took the plunge, committed, and did what I had been telling everyone I was going to do for the past year or so now. And no, we are not talking about a marriage. Although you could say this new apartment is the most committed relationship I’ve been in over the past few years. But I digress….

I had it in my mind’s eye, for quite some time, that I needed a change. After graduating college I moved back in with my two favorite “Roomies” (shout out to Mom and Dad) and immersed myself in the quintessential post grad grind. I commuted to work every day/night (nursing life is quite fun when you rotate shifts), went out with college friends on the weekends, attended various St. Louis social events, and relatively did “the STL routine”. It had worked for a while as a bright-eyed college graduate, just happy to be able to afford call drinks at the local bars. But before I knew it, I was approaching 25 and in a crux. Suddenly all the things I once looked forward to began to feel tired. Was I outgrowing this life I was so accustomed to? It seemed as though all my friends were either moving in with significant others or moving out of their parent’s homes in search of a new start somewhere else. I started to question my trajectory and whether or not I was progressing into adulthood in the linear fashion I assumed I always would? My commute to and from work was starting to weigh on me and as time passed I grew more and more unsure of what life in St. Louis entailed for me. My soul was growing with unrest and I began feeling lost in the city that I had known my entire life. Perhaps it was the “growing pains” associated with delving into my mid 20’s, or my higher self realizing that in fact, I needed to leave St. Louis and “figure it out”.

I knew I had to make an important decision regarding my future and what I wanted it to look like and who I wanted to become. The problem was that I didn’t even know who I was or what I wanted, let alone make any life altering decision overnight. All I knew was that something had to change and that I was the only one who could make myself happy.  The more I soul searched, the more found myself wondering what life would be like if I started anew, creating a world that was entirely my own.  Would moving to a new city, changing career paths, living on my own in an apartment that screams EMILY LIVES HERE, and finally being independent push me in the right direction? Would taking the leap of faith by leaving home be the key to the answers I was looking for? I can tell you this, I will learn quite a bit on this new adventure, and yes, I will completely struggle from time to time and call home in tears occasionally. And that’s OK! I’m OK with admitting that I will fail and need help and that I’m never too old to call Mom and Dad for reassurance and guidance. In fact, I think Mom and Dad like that I call them so frequently “just to talk” and check in.

So here I am, in my own apartment that looks and feels just like me, in the new city. Walls covered with pictures of places I have been and people I have met along the way, encouraging travel wherever you look. My cashmere and amber scented candle is lit as I write, and I am wrapped up in my cheetah print blanket on my pink couch. Champagne bottles line my bar cart, pink and gold dominate the color scheme, and I sleep in an oversized “princess” bed that looks directly south onto the bustling city (mainly because the bed didn’t fit in the room any other way). My apartment is girly, and almost borderline excessive to any male who steps foot in here. This is my new “home” for the next year and a half, or however long I choose to stay past my lease. However, amid the big city and never-ending things to do, I am finding myself struggling in the “transitioning” phase. I recognize that this is my new life, filled with infinite possibility, yet it doesn’t seem “real”. Sure, the rent and bills are real, the lake effect windchill does in fact exist, and my new job at Lurie Children’s Hospital seems fulfilling. However, I have found that I am slow to grow into identity as a new Chicago resident and wondering when any of this will seem “real” or just an extremely odd extended vacation where work is entailed?

Luckily I have friends and family here to aid with the “new girl in town” phase and to help me get settled into this new stage of life. I call it the “new girl in town/transitioning” phase because that’s exactly what it is. You are in fact new, and need to find your way not only geographically, but socially as well. Just like the elementary school kid who moved from halfway across the country and walks into your class on the first day scared half to death, this feeling isn’t too far off. But instead having a nice teacher give you a welcoming hand and making sure someone sits with you at lunchtime, you’re completely on your own because you’re an adult! Fortunately, I have friends who have taken this plunge before me, know exactly how it feels to be new, and are helping me navigate and find my way. I am beginning to make extended networks of friends, all of which from Missouri, and they have been incredibly welcoming and I am forever grateful for their open arms and hearts (Hey, we gotta stick together ok?!) Despite these nights when I am surrounded by new friends and in new and exciting places soaking in my new city, many nights are spent on the couch in solitude trying to navigate this new space that I now hold. Which is completely OK too because my liver and bank account cannot handle the constant “going out” and innate need for companionship.  I need to become comfortable with silence and not view it as the enemy or something to be scared of. If anything, I need to learn how to become still and enjoy these moments that facilitate growth and reflection.

The truth about this transitioning phase that no one wants to admit out loud is that it is hard and you are extremely vulnerable. And being vulnerable is a scary thing, especially in a new city when you’re just trying to figure out basic things like where the grocery store is and where to go to get a damn drink for under $10 (I don’t think it’s possible in Chicago but if you know of a place let me know!). So much of the reason why I wanted to start writing was to find a way to process all of these changes in a productive way that could help and connect others. Single in the New City is truly my way of sharing my struggles, accomplishments, and lessons learned on this new journey. I can assure that it will be messy, my grammar won’t always be perfect, and I’ll write things that people won’t always agree with. But that’s the beauty of life, and this is 1000% my beautifully imperfect life, 1000% unfiltered.