Thursday April 4, 2024 one year, two months and fourteen days ago - i arrived at formosa cafe on santa monica boulevard in hollywood for my first date with mike. it wasn't our first meeting; that had taken place in September 2008, when he joined the university residential student community as a building chairman while i was an executive board member, running shit. our second meeting had happened fifteen years later when, on january seventh or so in 2023, mike and i matched on Hinge. "Mike C." his profile said. I knew his last name - it was on the tip of my brain! but mostly, I knew that he was mike from URSC. mike from a cappella. mike from the "voCals." i walked into the restaurant and told the hostess that i was meeting someone; she said that he hadn't arrived yet so i snuck straight through to the powder room in the back. i touched up my chapstick; peed and checked my hair. i had wanted to look nice but also not like i had tried too hard, so i was wearing my favorite "go to" date dress, a short number with cap sleeves and a criss-crossed blouse in the front that showed my neckline but also left something to the imagination. i had on gold hoops to match my sydney opera house necklace - which mike would go on to notice and then mention the next day. finally, i wore my black steve madden boots - for both height and confidence. i didn't remember how tall mike would be, but i did remember that he was warm and earnest. not too cool to go to the annual pacurh conference with the rest of ursc's finest nerds. i also knew from his steady stream of 2023 voice memos that he was keenly curious about me, prone to making up songs and singing / dancing around his flat, and single despite our decade each of dating since wrapping at usc. my favorite things about mike that night would end up being my favorite things about him today. he spoke with love and admiration of his mother, sister(s) and the powerful women role models he had grown up around. he thought that it was so cool that i had lived in Australia (so cool!!) and the island country-continent was at the top of his travel bucket list. he told me not only that he loved learning new things, but that he was always keen to learn other people's views on things in order to best understand the full 360-degree perspective on a matter. finally, i loved that he rolled with the punches (and checked the menu in advance for mocktails!) when i told him that i wasn't drinking [during dry January], then told the server that this was because we were expecting our first baby together [just to mess with him]. after hours of talking, not ordering and barely pausing the breathe, i took the leap. i looked over at adjacent mike in our corner-booth and asked him: well, are you going to kiss me before the food comes? the rest was history. he never broke eye contact but paused with a coy smile and then leaned in to assuredly rise to my challenge. the rest of the night, we barely stopped touching. i placed my hand next to his thigh while talking and he insisted that it was fine if i kept it there. he continued to look at me throughout the night, smiled at all of my stories and also my answers. he asked me if i wanted to have children one day and i told him that only recently i had realized i definitely do. he seemed pleased by that, but all i remember noticing that night was the way he talked about his nephew, and talked about going to Maccu Piccu or Egypt or out on the road for Warped Tour. i didn't know that he might go on to become my hopeful, future baby Daddy. i couldn't have guessed that i had potentially just gone on my last first date. jump to tonight, April 4th 2024. one year, two months and fourteen days later, mike is asleep on the couch while we watch ted lasso - well, i watch and mike snoozes to the comforting sound of coach ted's voice. we had ramen and shared a sushi roll for dinner, after an amazing afternoon romp and a productive workday in our separate wings of the shared office. one month from today, we'll move in together and BOTH begin cohabitating with each other's true love for the first time, respectively! we're both nervous but excited and also open about both feelings. i couldn't be more sure that this is right. thanks, formosa cafe. thanks to you, we're still taking the leap to this day.
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A few days later in January, I agreed to a coffee date with the cashier who had checked me out at my local Trader Joe’s.
Yes, Joe checked me out in more ways than one. I was impressed with his kindness and his audacity to ask for my number (while ringing me up for my produce). On a Friday in the midmorning, we met at a local coffee and pie shop that I had been to once with my college friends. He was intriguing, extremely tall, and one of those people who’s direct and inquisitive— Enough to be offputting at first, but then just enough to make you think he’s different (from all the other complacent ones). We took a walk around North Hollywood and talked about our lives, our spirituality and our respective run-ins with signs from the Universe. He asked whether I minded if he smoked (I did) and, when I made a face, he explained that it was a lesser vice than others in the past. Things got weird when he asked if I was open to casual (aka sexual) relationship. My physiological response told me that I wasn’t (enter: Cory’s newfound intuition). I wasn’t used to setting boundaries, but I had become much more clear on what I was looking for. I “took the leap” and chose honesty, texting him a few hours after the date to tell him that we weren’t interested in the same thing, That afternoon was the day I decided to hit the trailhead, bring my AirPods - and start a personal podcast (aka catalog of personal voice memos) called “take a hike.” It would detail the stories of all my failed dates— or rather, the tales of each man I would come to tell to “take a hike” when we weren’t a match. It would entertain AND serve as a reflection tool on my dating quest. Little did I know that there wouldn’t be many more first dates after this one… in hindsight, january was definitely unexpected. a pleasant surprise, delightful beyond what i could have pictured or dreamed up for myself. it was very full, after december felt very spacious - full of languishing. it allowed so much love to flow in, however, because i made room for it.
in january, in addition to setting out after fifty first dates and my first four, i also set out to pursue dry january free of alc and coffee. i set an intention to practice thirty-one days of yoga. i aspired to meditate each morning, in bed before rising. and finally, i wrote down an intention to cultivate novelty, awe. trying new things would do it. Now? i'd say that i tried and made space and achieved all of it. it wasn't perfect; no, all pursuits were incomplete -- which made them interesting and glorious. i'm basking in the warm glow of progress (not perfection). this might be because one, i did most of it (not all of it!), and two, because i was unexpectedly tickled by what i came across. Date 1 date one of 2023 was my second date with A, zoo guy who i met through a set up by a thoughtful friend. he was kind with a warm smile, chivalry and great communication. turns out he worked in tech in a similar role to my first. we had so much in common that at first, it felt uncanny. backstory: on sunday december tenth, he picked me up at home in his audi. we had been texting for a month, exchanging audio messages from LA to Singapore and back while he traveled with his family across asia and trying new foods that he'd tell me about. he was curious, ambitious, interesting, and my exact same age. i liked that he was ted lasso for halloween, that he booked tickets for our date, and that we had a kind-hearted mutual friend from my college years. we hugged and climbed into the car, setting off toward griffith park to see the annual Zoo lights at LA Zoo. we walked, rode the archaic carousel, and talked about our families and travels. he was an only child. it felt easy. come 2023 and we had postponed our date at least three times due to life. i was sick; he had a family emergency. we hadn't talked constantly but we both loved John Mayer and trying new restaurants. i hoped a bigger spark or flame would sizzle on this night. a weeknight Japanese food outing became a halfway meetup (he didn't offer to pick me up again, i noticed) and he suggested Silverlake, a hip & in-demand spot of which i hadn't heard. i wore my lucky red sweater and a black go-to top that makes me feel sexy but subtle. he greeted me out front - but he didn't seem to notice. i don't remember the contents of our conversation (is that a bad sign?). it felt similarly easy and effortless to talk to him, but in that way that a strong conversationalist finds it easy to be curious. he didn't ask me about me! he said a few "how about you?s". i insisted we could split each piece of sushi so that we could both experience the chef's selection; he insisted that i should enjoy the ones I picked and i notice/wondered if he didn't want to share a bite. there was friendship in the place of magic. there was comf yet casual warmth in place of a spark. i wanted fire. we chose a dessert that neither of us loved but ate in an effort to be polite. when the waitress brought the bill he didn't reach for it, so i offered to go dutch. he accepted. finally, when we left to part ways at the valet stand -- we quickly-awkwardly hugged when realizing that my car was "up" in line. when i reached home, he had already sent me a text that he was only feeling a friend vibe and wanted to let me know, though i was "a complete catch." date 1 of 2023 was complete but my ego (and wallet) were pained from this sticky sushi venture. at least i had tried somewhere new; i had put myself out there. the song that was playing in my head (and in my car the whole way home) was "Music for a Sushi Restaurant." but the zest for life and the longing in Harry's hit is what was lacking. I had to let the search continue. On the first week of the New Year, my self-love gave to me: Nine days of meditatin' Eight days of yogi-ing, Seven days of coughin' Six days of playin', Five engagement rings (in my feed at least)! Four phone dates Three prospects Two dates lined up and a me that is finally READY. That's right. It's a new year, new me and while that phrase has become cliche, I'm inspired to embrace it. Rather than let perfection or planning get in the way of progress, I'm starting the year off with my first post of 2023. Allow this post to serve as a proclamation: of my yearly intention, my [albeit ambitious] dating goal and a record of my bold yet fearless pursuit of finally, after ten years of dating and tattooing and New Years intention setting... To meet my person. Over the Christmas-to-New Years holiday, I was under the weather and thus cozied up on the couch in a deep bubble of introspection, self-reflection and pondering. As I envisioned the future and the life that I dream of, I knew with new clarity that I want a family of my own, and with it a life partner with whom I might grow, adventure, and someday co-parent a bundle of children (human or otherwise). I want to meet my person; I don't need to, but I'd love to and hope to so that I can expand, explore new depths of love & connection, support someone and be supported unconditionally through life's trials and its peaks! Inspired furthermore by today's LA hike (see above) with a fellow single friend, female and similarly thriving in her career yet seeking more, we agreed that we are determined meet our "persons" this year. Not only that; we both want to find "relationships of inspiration" through the relentless pursuit of meaningful love... which can only be uncovered and achieved by bringing our authentic and unabashed selves to the epic "hero's journey" that is dating.
Per the podcast Deeper Dating [by some white dude and psychotherapist that I now like, Ken Page] the quest for a partnership is just that: the most important saga and quest that we will ever embark upon, toward the "most important topic of the human curriculum," as he calls it: LOVE. My takeaway from his thirty-minute pod of the week is that we must persist... while at the same time, holding our own hearts in tender hands. If we can turn ourselves inside out in the pursuit of our most authentic and secure selves on this journey? Then, he says (and I agree) -- we can find the utmost love and adoration from another. So after my first week of 2023, filled with new daily rituals of meditation, gratitude and yoga, I am both centered on and at peace with the fact that I'm on this journey. My intention for 2023 is to find my person. It won't be easy, it might be tedious and the quest has been long to this point. But to find the object of my utmost affection and desire? Someone who's caring and conscientious, open and adventurous, both gregarious and humble, adaptable and ambitious? The journey ain't going to be quick nor painless -- and this adventurer wouldn't want it any other way. Here's to the next fifty[-two] weeks of fifty first (or so) dates. Each week I'll complete my practice, I'll go on at least one date, and I'll record what I learned or loved on the weekend. After all, John Mayer did recommend "Love on the Weekend" if no other kind. To dating with hope and courage on this heroine*'s journey. XOXO, Abroad Back Home August 6th, 2022 Five years ago today, I landed in Sydney Australia. I had flown via Maui from San Francisco after a stint in Chicago and two weeks in LA. I was on no shortage of a farewell tour and my final destination was only a mere six thousand miles from home: Down Under. It's funny how long ago that time period feels, while also containing some of the most vivid Sydney memories I ever collected. Maybe anywhere! I was alone, on the precipice of a new life chapter. I was hungry, a bit clueless, drained from already having traveled and emotional wiped from saying goodbyes, eating final meals, and checking off bucket list items like it was my job! It's not as though I was leaving the planet for an interplanetary frontier; it's not as though I wouldn't be home eight weeks later for Britt's wedding to Jeff and my second-ever gig as bridesmaid. However, it's easy to forget that the start of this new chapter was also the end of an era. Five years ago today, I left [my heart in] San Francisco. After three adventurous years of living in the city, trying new things and countless firsts and making an indefinite amount of friends and workBFFs? I was bidding adieu to Silicon Valley. SF was arguably the town that changed my life, sparked a level of my independence and introduced me to the people who would change my career trajectory. I'd fall in like and love with countless work crushes, neighborhood "holes in the wall," parks to lounge in and neighborhoods to explore. I'd rent my first moving truck solo, find my first two bedroom with a total stranger, stay away for the weekend with my first "guy I'm seeing" (wishing he was actual boyfriend and finding, also for the first time, the guts to tell him as much). I'd learn to love yoga, I'd train for a marathon, and I'd help organize my first charity 5K to bring my love of running across the city. I'd cross the Golden Gate bridge, take my first ferry to Sausalito, run across instead, and jog the entire circumference of this city in order to see it close up, first hand.
It feels so long ago that it's hard for me to recall each local haunt, each fave. I miss the brunch place that was totally too mediocre for me to know the name, and I miss the coffee shop that was decent but beloved because of its reliability and proximity to our home (mere steps). I miss the Italian place around the corner where I found sanctuary when I was locked out of house and home, roommates out of town. I miss the rooftop balcony overlooking Coit Tower where I had countless housewarmings, roommates "byes," Galentines dinners and Bloody Mary fundraisers for Pencils of Promise. When I think back to that final week or two of farewells, I think I did pretty well at exhausting my favorite bites. I tried House of Prime Rib (finally!) and ordered Brandy Ho. I had Salt & Straw post park-day and got a Minty Mojito from the Philz coffee truck in the Marina Green. I probably fit in acai bowls from Basic Cafe and calzones from Italian Homemade. I remember that I wanted everything and also to do nothing, and simply savor life's simplicity. I was embarking on an adventure that would lend to [plenty more food and] new friends, new cuisines, new hobbies, and new horizons. Some things I'd carry with me, but I wanted to squeeze all the juice I could out of my city by the bay. Finally, I remember having oysters and bloodies with Nancy Dave Talia and Chels. My San Francisco fam was made up of none other more unconditional, more instrumental to my life here. If it hadn't been for the Lowerre's or Talia's friendship or Chels as my ride-or-die, I might not have found nor felt as at home. Now it's five years to the day that I touched down in Sydney. I ventured out for a jog around Darling Harbour... the same Darling Harbour that I had met at age 19 in my fleece peacoat. I looked out each morning at the CBD skyline atop the trees of Hyde Park. I reunited with Danielle, met Rupert, had dumplings with Ash... and then went to bookclub. Life would change forever, once again, and not for the last time. Five years ago today, I saw the sun beaming through those Sydney winter grays and thought: there's always a trade-off and yet, there's a silver lining on each new horizon. xo, Abroad Back Home Friday September 4th, 2020 9pm PST As I sit under the covers in my double bed at my Carp AirBnB, I don't want to ever forget exactly what this feels like. Despite the discomfort, nerves, sadness and longing - I know that it's a special feeling that's going to also fade before I blink twice.
I am all showered and clean, a little overheated because I don't know how to control the water temperature quite yet. I'm wearing my Harry Potter PJ's from Peter Alexander, my sleepy lotion from Lush and my sterling silver moon from "baby anything" (a local jeweler) in Paddo. I'm also tired to the point of exhaustion, wired to the near point of delirium, and so ready for a hopeful twelve maybe ten hours of restful sleep after 24+ spent traveling. I left Sydney on a rainy Friday morning after breakfast at Silk, almond flat whites and haloumi. I left with a quick hug from Pimm (my beloved barista), lots of tears from Lou and Des, tight squeezes from Sim and Michelle too, and the perfect amount of time and love from Phil -- my fateful fellow expat since college trips in 2010. I climbed into the lifts with Danielle and Becca just to venture down to the parking garage, where Dani had put her new Suburu for the night so that we could stay up late preparing, talking, packing, and crying a little. The night before, I did last minute things like write cards and make a photo collage for James and Rupert. I cuddled my giant Rupert bear, and drank Vuerve, and had dumplings and noodles from my favorite hole in the wall place across the street. I opted out of my all-time favorite gelato -- Messina -- but only because I had boba tea with James that day instead. My goodbyes on Thursday prior were both sad and anti-climactic. I packed early while Charlee and I sipped coffee from downstairs. I also hugged Liz, cuddled Scarlett and said bye to Wendy on the phone while staring over Coogee beach for the last time in a while. Liz and I had iced lattes while she held Scarlett, and I walked to the edge of the boardwalk's lookout (only to remember doing the same eleven years before, when I had last set eyes on Sydney). Who knew that 2009 would have been my first of two times saying goodbye? As I sat with Liz and became overwhelmed by the daunting task of departing, I realized one of many lessons - that not only do I not have to do it alone, but that asking for help lets others be more vulnerable and trusting in me right back. Liz told me so in her beautiful handwritten card, but she showed me so when she cried on her couch or let me into her life during hard moments. That morning in Coogee, I sat on her baby blanket and did the same: shedding tears and hyperventilating while Scarlett nursed happily. I gripped the beautiful pink and turquoise mug they gifted me. Liz also got me tall socks that say: Watch out, I'll fucking hug you. I intend to keep those socks forever. After my quick jaunt over to Coogee, I bid adieu to the girls and the beaches while heading home to transfer luggage to Fedex (and pay the cleaner). Our morning had been productive; the house was ready, my final possessions were on the balcony and James had deconstructed the bed so that I could sleep on it one final time (but so that L could also take it). Though I had wanted him to come over, spend time, help me take it apart and maybe break it down in the process -- I'm confident that everything that happened that afternoon was as it should have been. There were no drawn out goodbyes; no awkward chemistry or latent sparks. I gave him my final love letter in the form of a very brief and casual card - he took his jumper, gave me a hug and texted me Friday to have a "safe flight Xx." Just like these strange feelings tonight, that undeniable crush and love hangover that made my torso ache would soon fade too, slowly crystalizing into a fond and sexy memory. Tonight i fought my jet lag by chatting with friends & my new landlord Debbie, and by heading to the beach for sunset. I ran back to grab a jacket because the coastal air told me I wouldn't be warm for long. I'm so glad I did -- the ocean breeze off the waves was perfectly comfortable through my breathable sleeves. As I hit the sand and strode toward the tide for firm footing, I felt the ache and a lump surge into my throat as the day closed. I didn't want it to be my last day as abroad down under. Not yet. The moment I turned west, seeking that sunset on the horizon and wondering if I had made the right decision leaving one coast for another, two dolphins rose out of the water directly in front of me. My heart skipped so audibly that I laughed, swallowed tears and didn't decide -- I knew that they were the sign I hadn't known I was looking for. If I've asked God and the Universe lately to help me know I've made the right decision, She did so immediately and showed me that I won't be alone here. As I walked briskly, listening to my familiar tunes and checking out my new skyline where the sky meets the sea, the dolphin duo kept me company. What were the chances of that? I think it's normal to feel the sticky discomfort of a new place, a bit of solitude, sadness for what's gone and nervousness for what's to come. Heck, I should know the feeling by now: I've done this a minimum of twice by leaving LA and SF.... more when you count the times away, in strange dorms and hotels and apartments that were not yet mine. Each time, I sit in curiosity and also ritual: praying, listening, watching familiar characters on TV and lathering myself up in my favorite scent. I know that things will more than smell familiar soon. Until then, I'll forever be abroad in mindset. xoxo, Abroad at Heart Dear Simba, It's been one week since you looked at me... but you seem to like it here enough, girl! I catch you lying around on the fake hard wood floors, always in a patch of sunlight and with your avocado catnip toast nearby. Sometimes, you're on the couch instead - at home on your gray fleece blanket or your cream colored sherpa that blends with the hair you leave behind. You wake me up at 6:30am, meowing for your daily drink out of the sink or squeaking because your feeder hasn't turned yet. At night though, you make your way into my room eventually and hop up onto the foot of the bed where you can nestle into the warmth of my legs under the covers. Wherever we go, some things never change. After one week of living in my new Studio City apartment, I have already fallen hard (and all over again) for Los Angeles - her brains and her beauty. I wouldn't say I'm right at her center, but I've landed amongst her northernmost hills and begun to explore what locals call "The Valley" alright! Merely 45 minutes south of my family and 45 minutes east of Jill and Carolyn on the west side, I feel like I'm exploring my very own brand new neighborhood while also sitting right in the middle of everything. Here's what I love about it so far: - I'm right near some of my staple people in LA - Scott's place is about a ten minute drive through the Valley and Briona is mere steps down Laurel Canyon Blvd. Jess and Scott came over Saturday night for casual pizza and game night. Jill drove up to help me unpack and was so much closer than we were in the past. In my first week, I tested the drive over the canyon to WeHo...my old stomping grounds!
My kitchen has its splashes of red and my living room with purple accents and Aquabump's "Rise" featured front and center -I have a quaint and yet perfect balcony. I can perch in my comfy rattan chairs from Wayfair, and welcome Simba to come out and join me - at which point, she doesn't hesitate. I have three small tables for all of my plants and we sit out there together, plant family and all - enjoying the aforementioned LA sunshine on my shoulders (and I can't imagine having found a place that didn't have an outdoor haven for us to escape to!). The work from home days are long but the space feels like me- ever under construction but also oh-so-me. My reminder to self is that to move is to grow, refine and yet expand. As Briona's housewarming card read so fittingly: Wherever you go, go with all your heart. Xoxo, Abroad Down in LaLa Land Since moving back home to the U.S. in September, I've had all sorts of ideas. I've crafted a new bucket list and made lists of the things I want: want to buy, want to craft, want to do and visit in my new life back in Southern California - Stateside. Sometimes I feel as though I haven't progressed as far as I would have liked. Then again, when I think about it, I'm proud of all the things I've accomplished - often for the first time. 1. I went on a road-trip with my parents and visited Yosemite National Park (two firsts!) 2. I flew to visit DC once again, and drove to visit Brittany and Jeff at their place in Virginia for the first time since they got married. (insert: historic Jamestown ghost tour) 3. I moved into my very own apartment for the first time 4. I had my legs waxed (and I don't recommend the underarm region - ouch) 5. I baked sourdough! 6. I went on five new first dates - and had a dude cook for me in said apartment =) 7. I drove to see my California besties in their new places: Chels in San Diego & Shira in Marin Country 8. I flew to visit both my high-school besties: Bre at her home in Orangevale and Jenna at her new home in Portland! 9. I swam in this side of the Pacific (all over town: from Carp to Newport Beach) 10. I made dairy-free pasta sauce with yeast & nut milk *Bonus: I got promoted to a senior consultant -- and a global program manager There are more things, and tiny things, and big things, and countless small things. I tried Island Brew Company; I participated in a virtual beer fest (thanks to the pandemic). I drank at a cidery in Virginia; I also went to a new hair salon and had my hairs trimmed by an old family friend.
I went on a date wearing masks; I kissed my first Californian dude in years. I got a new tattoo, for the first time in my home region of Ventura County. I drove all the way to San Francisco and back solo, for my first time in seven years since moving to SF in 2014. I made a gallery wall of photos and prints from around the world. I had my own paint night on my balcony. I built a lamp. I garbage-picked a new office chair from my neighbor's sidewalk out front. Most importantly, I started therapy. I started meditating more days than I don't. I kept journaling (as fiercely as I have since kindergarten). I went back to Hawaii (for a sixth time?) but for my first time with just Mom. We swam with a sea turtle for the first time in my life. I've kept putting myself out there, in the pursuit of new relationships and new experiences, riding in the wake of their possibilities. The novelty and awe inspired by new experiences don't have to wait until global travel resumes to re-emerge. xo, Abroad Down Under Emergency Weather report: February 1st-February 5th, 2021 Who am I, if I'm no longer Sydney-Cory? This is the thought that came into my mind, late one night on a hard week of missing my former home. These existential questions and residual bouts of nostalgia might be emblematic of something. Is it the five-month mark since departing from Sydney? Was it the uncharacteristically touching few words from my old housemate Rupert on our recent phone catch-up? Maybe these feelings have been amplified by the dermatology appointment I had this week (causing me to reminisce scarier moments of diagnosis Down Under), or my encroaching 32nd birthday. It most definitely could have been the letter from AU immigration, which arrived in my inbox Monday morning. My visa has been cancelled - due to my lack of employment in Australia - and while months have gone by, it reminded me that the chapter on Oz is finally and officially closed. Closed forever? Not necessarily! But this symbol, in a time of limited travel and pandemic constraints, made me yearn for access to the door into Sydney simply because it's locked -- for now. Over the past three years of living abroad, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what made me feel at home while living halfway around the world. That self-awareness is helping me now as I attempt to cultivate the life I wanted to create upon moving back to Cali. As an avid loyalist to my journal and nerdy goal-setter since childhood, I have determined eight areas that I want to cultivate in particular. I think they'll help me feel intentional, cozy, comfortable in my own skin, and supported along the way. These are the versions of me I want to be. As I "cultivate," I realize that I'm still Sister Cory, connector-Cory, yogi-Cory and so much more. 1. My wellness. My daily wellness rituals make me feel so much stronger. I'm grounded, self-aware and more relaxed going into my work day. I'm also more self-compassionate, a better sleeper, and more focused when I start the morning with a short breathing meditation followed by my living room yoga! Doing things like yoga or even home-cooking also give me quality time with ME to notice my thoughts and cuddle with Simba (see below). 2. My home! I have looked forward to this milestone of living on my own for a while now. It's finally here - I'm in my own apartment! With the help of my sisters, parents and bro-in-law, I am nearly set up for the coziest homey space of "hygge" ever. I can rest, exercise, lounge, or host. I can bake, blend, create and even sit outside! Finally, I have countless blankets, candles and essential oils that will help me quite literally infuse Sydney into my home. 3. My community - both old and new. I could not be more grateful to be minutes from the Welsh fam. Weekly dinner with the Brocks or routine backyard catchups have been the soul-fuel for my transition back home. While I am back in my home county and surrounded by friends from childhood and USC, it's been hard to reconnect with as many as I'd like during a pandemic. Luckily, I have Zoom trivia and Jackbox TV game nights lined up with my closest friends so I can stay in touch with them from around the world. 4. My creativity. Something I've been missing is the hobby of embracing my tactile, analog creativity! Especially after long days of virtual collaboration and screen-time, I long to leverage my creative juices in the evenings. I can do this by way of crafting or puzzling. I've even started sorting my Sydney prints for a scrapbook-gallery wall, and assembling a photo collage on my fridge was a simple pleasure. My friend Sue sent me a jewelry-making mandala kit - which fittingly fits into multiple goals like my wellness and this one! 5. My relationships... and maybe even romance. Beyond the community I know and love, I am open to meeting new people and want to invest time in dating. Little things like going outdoors for a (safe-distance) walk with a new coworker make the biggest difference and FUEL me while working from home. 6. My consciousness. This one is about being aware of those around me and intentional with my choices. Being back in America, I want to be politically engaged and environmentally conscious in the face of a climate emergency. I want to be mindful instead of reactive, and this starts with doing one thing at a time with greater ease and love. I'm reading the news, listening to podcasts, and talking with friends who make me smarter. I can't help but think of Jimminy Cricket on my shoulder, reminding me to let my conscience be my guide. 7. My service orientation. From helping someone with their LinkedIn profile to donating when I have the means to support a friend, I am living my purpose when I am giving back. 8. My professional development. Being in a new role during such a heavy period of change, I'm focused on purely honing the skills for my current role - coaching and consulting. I try to learn or read something new every day and reflect at the end of every week. I'm also scheduling mentor conversations twice a month to learn from those who lead teams [in- and outside LinkedIn]. I can do some writing, quick learning or email backlog on the balcony. Simba's not so sure. Whatever it is that brings the rain, Sydney is etched deeply on my heart. Sometimes her imprints feel like scars - sensitive to the touch. Other times, they're beautiful and joyful tattoos of memories and friendships... not to mention the great scenery! It's melted onto my heart like a screen-print tee that I'll wear forever. The silver lining about this month's weather report? You know what they say about rainbows - you can't spot them without a little rain. Xoxo, Abroad in Cultivate-mode Something I've been thinking about writing for WEEKS is the list of things that people never tell you. Who are "people," you may be asking yourself? The proverbial "they" -- the wiser and all knowing elders, the fellow expats, your friends who did something similar to you and perhaps moved abroad, built a life and moved home to their country of origin in order to be closer to [insert here: family, their calling, aging parents, better resources]. They don't tell you how bittersweet and weird it will feel moving back to the place you used to call home, yet so long ago. They don't tell you that your heart might feel split in two - divided by a chasm only x-thousand miles wide (and an ocean deep). They don't talk about the little things - seemingly mundane and too insignificant to possibly constitute "reverse culture shock." Am I petty for missing my coffee shop? My mattress? The Sydney coastal breeze? I arrived on a sunny September morning after 15 hours in flight, twenty hours of travel combined. I walked through immigration at San Francisco International, reminiscent of many a work trip and morning spent looking for coffee through the fog of "the Mondays." I felt different this time, and yet immediately felt a piece of me so consumed by déjà vu that I was the same - transported back to age 25. I walked past the familiar terminals, acronyms and hanging symbol of red white and blue, realizing that I was back on home soil for the indefinite time being. It wasn't just a visit. I was moving "home" - but what did home mean, anyway? My first weeks back as a SoCal resident have been smooth, familiar and yet sticky in the most unexpected places - like an old and comfy sweater discovered stuffed in the back of your closet or uncovered from under the bed after years, covered in dust bunnies. I drove on autopilot from the rental car hub up the 405-N, remembering college days and weekend drives to see my not-boyfriend in my early-twenties years. I connected to Bluetooth and called B, instantly grateful for the literal LUXURIES i hadn't had living in a hip metropolis for the past six years. Bluetooth and CarPlay? Starbucks drive-throughs? Don't mind if I do, I thought guiltlessly. This year had been about choosing ease, after all. I reflect constantly that there are parts and costs of traveling that people never tell you; they don't post them on Instagram or shout them from a giant-tree swing on their youtube travel vlogs. Traveling. home. is. HARD. Traveling period is taxing on the body, the soul, friendships, routine, our health, sometimes family, and unavoidably-- our wallets. But traveling home after time away is something that I have yet to read much about, and I want to know more.
I've been through this before. I keep telling myself this in moments of lonely solitude or doubt. I am in a new world with new direct peers, but I've known all of them for some time now and I have a long standing brand and series of work stories that lay behind me. I must have felt the same when I first moved to SF, again when I moved to Sydney, and even when I moved stores, roles and, finally? companies. During some of those moments, other people were new: my cohort were new to that environment of work; when I first went to bookclub that fateful night in October 2017, I wasn't the only one checking it out for the first time. And so I had friends, courage, vulnerability and creativity to get me through. I am trying to leverage those same muscles now. When I'm in with my boss, I ask a lot of questions; when I am with my peers I still embody the new girl and ask as many questions as I have (rather than hold them back). Yesterday, I asked a question that I'm glad I broached instead of biting my tongue. I did exactly what Brene recommends: I chose to rumble instead of hiding or guarding myself from judgment by holding back and hoping that no one noticed I'm an imposter. To daring greatly on the road back home. Xoxo, Abroad Back Home |
Who am I?I am a girl who loves my island and a girl who loves the sea; it calls me. Archives
April 2024
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