One way ticket to Boston

I dreamed of this moment nearly the entirety of my life — sometimes so vividly I could smell it, feel it, touch it. 

More days than not, it felt as though it would never pan out — that I was living in a different life than the one I envisioned for myself — the one I craved with all of my heart. 

I never understood how people did it — how they lived in the city and worked in high rises overlooking the harbor. I never understood how people saved enough to move, how they didn't stress, how it was all so perfect.

I never understood. 

While I never understood, while I was discouraged more often than not, I never stopped. I never stopped pushing toward that life I could see so clearly, the one that seemed so far out of my grasp — the one that was just a dream. 

And then, I got it. 

Just like that, I got it. 

I got the job in the high rise, the apartment in the brownstone, the solo move across the country I had romanticized over, and over, and over again. 

And all of a sudden, this was my new norm — it was my life and everything in it was mine. 

I don't know what I expected. A rainbow, fireworks, a magic wand — I yearned for so hard for so long that when I arrived, I was, almost, under-enthused. 

I didn't feel much. 

I walked around the first few weeks going through the day-to-day, getting what I needed to get done done, and scheming my next big move. 

Yes, scheming my next big move.

I was planning to do things to change who I am. Comparing my life to others. 

Doing just the things I had run away from. 

My greatest fear is that my need for something different, something more, will always outshine the present — that it will overpower my ability to be proud of myself, to feel, to love who I am right here, today. 

My greatest fear is that my lack of self-acceptance will always pull me away from feeling.

Feeling proud. Feeling excited. Feeling deserving.

But I refuse to not relish in this moment. I refuse to not be proud of myself because I still have so far to go. I refuse to diminish my accomplishments thus far in comparison of others I so deeply admire. 

I refuse to continue to always think that my situation isn't the right one — that I somehow need to be on a different path than my own. 

I refuse. 

I took a one way ticket to Boston, and, at least right now, I refuse to look back. 

Because life isn't perfect. Dreams are not perfect. No one has it perfect. 

Nothing will be good, until you are. Nothing will be right, nothing will feel innately your own, until you are alright with you. 

And that is what I am here to discover.

Because it doesn't matter where you live, where you work, how much money you make, or how many shoes you have in your closet. 

It matters how you feel about you.

It matters how you recognize yourself in the mirror, each and every single day.

And I'm choosing to like the person staring back at me... today, tomorrow, and the day after that.

Anastasia Warren