It’s not hard to sit back and fantasize about leaving for a tropical escape when the weather gets moody and work deadlines are overwhelming. But actually making the move? Well, it’s a heck of a lot more difficult.
Somewhere along the way, this fantasy became my necessity. I needed a shift and a change in pace after a long, tough year of health issues. So after some soul-searching, I bought myself a one-way ticket, quit my job, and moved out of my apartment. I said goodbye, San Francisco — and ALOHA, Hawaii!
The first few days were a vacation with my sister and my partner on the island with me — we joined my sister’s friends for nights out to dive bars and house parties, rang in the new year at a Gatsby-themed soiree, soaked up plenty of sun on the beach, and drank too many mai tais. We spent the night at a trendy hotel in Waikiki and spent too much money on expensive appetizers. I got my honorary first sunburn.
Vacation life, ya know?
Having my dear friends visit was such a blessing!
I was quick to discover island living is not always sunshine and coconuts. Once my friends left, I was alone back at the house with myself, my thoughts, and one very fuzzy golden retriever. I realized that with the bustle of Christmas festivities and hours spent packing my life into boxes for storage, I hadn’t really been alone alone in a while. When the outdoor voices quieted, the weight of the past two months’ worth of big moments and big decisions let themselves be felt in their entirety.
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