I've never been good at making decisions. I waffle A LOT. I've even been known to walk around a store for an hour holding an item I'm interesting in buying only to ditch it right before I reach the register. I can't commit if it doesn't feel right— not even to a garment.
So when posed with the question of whether to stay in New York City or move home, I'm pressed with a lot of emotional conflict. On one hand I feel as though this city has opened my mind to all that is possible, and on the other hand it has shown me that living here can feel pretty damn IMpossible. I've been making this life work and I'm having a great time, but I am homesick for my family and I can't imagine myself turning into a real New Yorker.
Every detail to this life has me losing sleep. Where will I live? Who will I live with? Where will I work? Will I make my ends meet? Will I ever get ahead? Will my degrees come in use? Will I ever be able to see my family? Can I really image another bitter-cold winter? Is my coat going to fall apart (because I'm pretty sure I can't afford another one right now...)? How long will I be sleeping on a futon? Should I sell my car back home? Will I ever have my own room with walls? Will my friends come visit me? Do my parents really support my starving artist dreams? ...Am I even good enough to be here?
Self doubt is my diagnosis. It sounds silly... I mean, heck, I've made it this far. What's there to really doubt, right? Doubt just consumes me lately. I have I've always considered myself to be pretty level-headed and practical, but I've also been known to act on impulse and live in the moment. I want to live on the edge and go with the current, but I can't stand not knowing what's ahead. I always have to have a plan, but I love the idea of not having a plan, and I trust in fate, but I also think it's complete bullshit.
So what should I do?
I'm reminded time and time again to simply listen. I know there's a voice within speaking to me, even if it's a murmur. Lately I feel as though the voice has urged me to stay and gain as much New York City experience as possible. My conscious tells me this is the right direction, but my heart is telling me I'll be happier when I'm closer to my family and my body is telling me to stop kicking it's ass in this tough environment. It wants a regular schedule, a normal diet, and an exercise routine. But then again, that's not exactly the kind of lifestyle I picked with this whole cooking gig. Maybe with the editorial direction, but certainly not with cooking, atleast while I'm working and in school.
But ya know, what do I have to lose? As long as I'm moving forward towards the goal of personal betterment, that should be good enough, right? As long as I'm pursuing my passion for food and my goal of eventually being able to entertain, nurture, and hopefully inspire others with my food in my own establishment one day, that's something.
Well, here's hoping it's something.
