That’s Wisconsin’s motto. It’s rad, and I’ve taken it to heart during all of the five years I’ve been in LA. Five years. Five years to grow and bloom into an adventuresome Californian with a warm Midwestern heart. I know I’ve adapted to LA because I now describe my traffic route upon arrival (“I took the 101 to the 405 to the 10…”), but I remain a Wisconsinite at heart because I sometimes apologize for existing in someone’s vicinity.
These five years have included many challenges and triumphs, and have brought big changes to my life. I would never have guessed I’d end up where I am, but I’m grateful for the twists, turns, and second chances that have brought me here.
Where You At?
My current status is as a week-long Hawthorne resident. The new place is about 20 miles (1.5 LA traffic hours) from the San Fernando Valley, where I safely lived out my first five years enjoying proximal hiking, sweltering summer heat, and snow-capped winter mountain vistas.
The Valley was a suburban kind of wonderful. I never lived far from Ventura Boulevard’s roulette wheel of “New American” eateries and gastropubs. My commute was always reasonable. Nearby mountain hikes were plentiful. The drive to go brood on Malibu’s cliffs was a quick 45 minutes.
But a sea change hit, and now I’m typing up a post in the South Bay. That’s almost Long Beach, man! What happened? Here’s the highlight reel in five points for my fellow Millennials that can’t consume content unless it’s a list.
No longer on my own out here, I’m living my best life with a wicked smart and supportive partner – and our little dog, too.
Roberto is a handsome, witty, bearded fellow from the East Coast with nicer hair than me. We met working together, and became friends after a visit to the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory’s open house. The cosmos brought us together, and after some space lecture dates at the observatory we couldn’t be separated.
I’m a big fan of love, and the happy recipient of a rare second chance at it that is vibrant, intimate, and colossal all at once. My mother says she can see it in my face, but what do mothers know? (Everything, somehow.) It feels like I’ve found a home, and he must have thought so, too. This past summer after two years together he proposed under the stars in our balcony hammock. If I could have said yes harder, I would’ve.
I left Instantly – where I met Roberto – at year two, and spent three years on an in-house design team for a medical group. We won awards, and I grew under excellent mentorship, but I was ready to make a change. Roberto left Instantly/SSI for a career that has blossomed, but was located in El Segundo – 1.5 LA traffic hours from our home in the Valley. It seemed the South Bay was the answer to both a new job for me, and a shorter commute for him.
So here we are in Hawthorne! I’ve taken a new position at a SaaS company a block away from his office in El Segundo. Our commutes are short, and I have high hopes for my new team and my projects. Our new place is a tri-level townhome with a garage, double oven, and a shower with windows that look out at the palm trees and mountains. I can watch the planes coming in to LAX while I wash my hair.
I’ve got to toot my own horn here a little bit. While all of these major changes have been happening, I’ve completed a few feats of physicality that I want to cheer about.
Just this year, I completed my first 10k run, after a year of recovering from a broken foot. Before the break, I hiked the Bright Angel Trail through the Grand Canyon. It was hard. I’ve been casually rock climbing, running, doing that yoga, and maybe more than casually hiking.
I grew in other ways, as well: upped my freelance game, tightened my photography skills, paid off my student debt, and got laser eyes. I can see the future, and it’s bright.
Perhaps my greatest growth, however, comes from hanging out with and taking care of myself. After my first year and a half in LA I separated from my ex-husband, and had to learn to be alone. I spent some time overextending myself and attending therapy, but eventually healed my way into a healthier routine of self care. I’m a fan of the solo spirit quests, the continuous finding we’re all supposed to be doing.
I’ve become a fan of hiking by myself, going out and exploring the world solo. I’m great company. At least once a year I take a day trip off into the wild. Being alone in nature is thrilling and exciting – not lonely. At least, most of the time it isn’t. One trip I got caught in a storm in the desert and thought I was a goner, and that kind of loneliness is no bueno.
Here are some of the beautiful things I’ve seen solo:
Exploring alone inspires me deeply, and helps me reflect on what kind of story I’m writing for myself. It’s a quiet reminder that I’m in charge of my destiny.
Being alone is great, but sharing adventure with the ones you love is the best. To that end, I’ve been travelling more in the past three years than I have my whole life. I credit that to excellent company. My friends and I get around. I’ve seen 8 National Parks, and every one of them has blown me away. My crew and I are gonna make it through them all.
Only forty-some left to go.
My folks have been out this way a number of times, too, and we make sure to action pack each of their trips. My mom and I fed a giraffe. We rode a hot air balloon. We all got tattoos. Heck, Mitch and I almost died hiking one day because we were so gung-ho we didn’t check the weather and got caught in mudslidesville.
And of course, Roberto and I adventure around as well. We’ve hiked a hidden grotto, held hands at the Lincoln Memorial, adopted San Diego speakeasies, flipped a kayak at Big Bear, and danced on top of the space needle.
My life is full.
I’m about to marry a person I deeply respect and appreciate. My career is in full swing. Our new apartment has a hot tub that I can’t get grounded for hanging out in. I’m fitter now than I was in my twenties, and comfortable enjoying myself as I grow. I’ve seen two California condors. All around me are fabulous people and rich experiences.
I’m not asked if I’m coming home anymore.
Having been raised a nomad, I doubt my “home” will ever be a specific location where I grow roots. I’d like to think I’m creating a life that will be meaningful no matter the zip code. I’ve had a crazy five years out here, but I want everyone to know:
Brodyman Dudeman -The true reason I made it this far.
You were my rock, buddy.