It took me forever to recognize my purpose in life. Once I finally realized it, it took me even longer to make the first step in the right direction. The actual journey to pursuing my dreams started in November of 2011 when I quit my job of over seven years. Less than a year later, it kicked into high gear when I dropped everything and left for New York. Since then, it’s been a roller coaster ride. But more along the lines of Drop Zone or Tower of Terror.
I applied to jobs I was overqualified for, only to not even get so much as a rejection letter back. I had a 3-bedroom apartment in the works that ended up being a sham. Then, there was the time I thought I hit the jackpot and found a place to sublet, only to have the owner back out at the last minute. It was always one step forward, two steps back. I felt helpless. If only companies would just give me a chance. If only I could catch a break. If only luck were on my side.
Luck shmuck. I’m well aware of the things I’ve done and haven’t done to put me in my current predicament. I know I could’ve done more. I know that things come to those who hustle. I know that you get what you give. That bad things happen to good people and vice versa. That sometimes things are too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence, and and sometimes shit just happens.
What do we believe in then? Luck? Destiny? God? I don’t know what’s real anymore, but I do know that after all the ups and downs, highs and lowest of lows. After everything that’s happened, I feel lucky to still have this fire inside of me that wants to fulfill my destiny, and thank God for the audacity to want to start all over again.