Introduction

A few years ago, if you were to have asked me what “happiness” looked like for me, my response would’ve been:

“I know I’ve made it when I live in my own apartment, alone, because I don’t need man, happy, and financially independent; A boss-ass attorney; a corporate girly.”

Not too long after I graduated college, my roommate at the time went out on a double date, and I had the whole house to myself. I was STOKED. I enjoyed dinner with my favorite show, danced around for a few minutes, cleaned the entire house, and did just about everything I had planned for that evening — naked, because it felt freeing. After I finished, I sat down to admire my work. The feeling of accomplishment lasted all of 20 seconds. 

“Now what?”

I slowly begin to realize how empty and lonely I felt. The vacancy of it all started to sink in. Was this what “making it” is for me…except in a nicer home? Is this what my future looks like? Is this what my future is going to FEEL like? The panic set in.

I think a lot of how I felt in all aspects of my life had to do with my needing to prove my independence. I spent so many years listening to people’s unsolicited criticism, telling me how dependent I was: emotionally, mentally, financially, you name it. Unfortunately, their unwanted feedback stuck with me, and since then, every choice I began to make was beginning to turn me into someone I really wasn’t. Instagram gave me the bitter pleasure of reminding me that today marks 5 years since I finished undergrad. Five. Fucking. Years. Looking back at the photos, I’m reminded of that enthusiastic, stupid, innocent girl, excited to get started in contributing to the corporate world. In a way, I miss her. I wanted so bad so put my degree to use. As a first gen college grad, I was anxious to make my parents proud. I wanted to move out on my own and live downtown. I wanted a corner office. I wanted to dress up for work everyday and lead a team. I wanted to be a socialite, and excel in the dating world. I wanted to go to grad school and get a law degree. I wanted to leave my corporate footprint. And I wanted to do it all on my own. Only problem is, I was fucking miserable.

After years of working for something I was convined I wanted (and countless meltdowns), I had a heart to heart with myself, and decided that lifestyle wasn’t for me, even if it meant completely changing course. I broke my own existential glass ceiling.

The gray area between figuring out who you are and being the best version of yourself is a disastrous, beautiful, emotional clusterfuck.

So I did what any 25 year old would do: I quit my job. During COVID. With no backup plan. But holy shit if it hasn’t been the best decision I’ve ever made. I took some time for me to get to the point where I made a change, because, “What if my parents become super disappointed in me? What if I never figure out what I’m passionate about? Or even worse, what if I do figure out what I’m passionate about and absolutely suck at it? What if me pursing a law degree was the only thing keeping my self esteem in tact? What if becoming an attorney was the only thing stopping me from becoming emotionally dependent again?” I spiraled. My sense of direction was no where to be found.

Instead of living in what ifs, we’re gonna live in maybe’s. Maybe, we move to a bustling city and fail passionately. Maybe, life is more than just your career. Maybe, it’s okay to rely on people and to want to share life with someone. Maybe, it’s okay to be a little crazy. Maybe, it’s okay to depend on others when you can’t carry the weight on your own. Maybe all our work pays off, or maybe things don’t work out, and we get the amazing opportunity at a clean slate. Maybe, we fall in love: with ourselves, with moments, with places.

Getting to where I am today has been anything but a straight shot. So this is going to be the story of what, how, and more importantly, who got me here. People and experiences play an important role in our story. Whether it’s a chapter, a sentence, a footnote (and hopefully someday, the title), we are all small fragments of the people we meet along the way. So buckle up, we’ve got loads to catch-up on.

If you were to ask me what happiness means to me today, I would say:

Happiness is loving the work you do, where you feel like you can put your creativity to use. It’s waking up to your favorite person and having someone to go through good and bad days with. Happiness is being present, and friends, and coffee in the morning and having time at the end of the day to enjoy the sun before it sets instead of spending it in a cubicle. Happiness is a home, not an office. Maybe, this is just the tip of the iceberg in figuring out what happiness really is.

I like maybe. I have a feeling the universe was founded on it.

x,

S.