Goodbye, Los Angeles

Goodbye, Los Angeles. What a ride it has been.

I was 21 when I arrived in this city. An ugly, sprawling mess of a city hidden under a blanket of smog, rimmed by barely visible mountains and populated with some of the most careless drivers I have ever seen. I remember the first drive across the city, from east to west, cars swirling around me, concrete flashing below me, the sun blazing down from on high. I was overwhelmed and wanted to love it, but I couldn’t, I never did, and I still can’t. The novelty of palm trees and year-round sun wore away quickly under the constant strain of living in the overpriced heart of the film industry. Within a year of arriving I was looking for a way out, though it would take me another seven years before I could fully conjure my escape.

I came to Los Angeles with dreams, as so many do, of life in the entertainment industry. Weekends spent beneath towering palm trees, and days spent crafting the future of cinema. I was eager and sure of myself, and also deeply insecure and afraid that my dreams would all come to naught, that I’d be seen as the creative fraud that I feared I was. That I still fear that I am. But I had dreams, and so I leapt into the unknown. Knowing that I could swim for my life if I must, but hoping it wouldn’t come to that. I wanted to find success here, praise, and perhaps even community. In the end I found all of these and none of these, for life is not the highway that I believed it to be, but rather a reckless flailing about, a grasping. Weather purely through fault of my own, bad luck, or changing tides I could never hold on hard enough to make myself happy here.

First, I was a film student, eager to please and prove myself. Then, an underpaid and often unpaid set lackey, taking orders from my peers who sought to impress the famous among us. As though the way to the top were paved in stepped on toes and screamed orders. Perhaps they knew better than I, as many of those same peers are measurably more successful than myself. Next, I became an advertising industry wanna be, and though my career there ended in what can best be described as burnout and knockout, I was deeply happy for a time. So many days my work felt like creative summer camp and I stayed longer than I should have. Under the mentorship of a workaholic and acutely inspiring boss I grew and learned and in a way found my voice. Eventually, I learned that hard work and early mornings don’t pay the bills, that drive doesn’t make you valuable enough to withstand budget cuts, and my agency decided they could do without me. The leaving broke my heart, but also taught me so much. I’m ending my time here as a corporate shill, bored on a daily basis, uninspired and overpaid, scraping together creative projects on the side to keep myself stimulated. And yet. And yet! I cannot define my time in Los Angeles purely on the basis of a lackluster career. If my graceless forced departure from the advertising industry taught me one thing, it is that we are so much more than our job titles.

What I never dreamed of is the friends I would make, and the love I would find. To those I met in college, I want to say thank you. Thank you for taking me in, giving me my first home here, allowing me to express myself and grow creatively. Thank you for the early hours and the late nights, the drunken discussions and the sober editorial sessions. I have so many happy memories from the two years we spent together, and if I regret anything it is that I didn’t hold tighter to your hands as we stepped out into the wider world. And to my professional friends, I owe you for helping me become who I am today both personally and professionally. Our relationships were occasionally adversarial, but more often they were inspirational, educational, and illuminating. You showed me that I have a voice and ideas that are worth expressing. You taught me how to defend an idea and, more importantly, when to concede and compromise for the sake of the work. And finally, you taught me not to define myself by my career, that desire doesn’t equate gain. It is because of you that I learned failure is not the worst thing that can happen to a person, not as much as clinging to something you don’t fully believe in. Though, I am not sure you ever planned to teach me that last lesson.

Interspersed between my work friends and my college friends, are my true friends, those of you whom I hope I will never lose. I owe you a great deal more than I can express. You know who you are, and you should know that I love you. Thank you.

When I think back on my time in Los Angeles, I’m struck by how nothing turned out how I planned. The comedy of my hubris is laughable now, as though any five year plan could have anticipated the rollercoaster of experiences that I’ve had the pleasure to live through in my nearly eight years here. My time in this city has been full of firsts and for that I will always be grateful.  Beyond that, the barely controlled chaos of living in such a massive city has mellowed me in some ways, and radicalized me in others. I am no more the person I was when I arrived here, than the person my 21 year old self dreamed I would become. I’ve let go of so many of the things that I thought I wanted, and in doing so have set the basis for the person I hope I can become one day.

My time in Los Angeles has taught me that the best thing you can do for yourself is to believe in something. Anything. Believe in your convictions, and your knowledge of what is right. Believe in your partners and your friends, and let them surprise you. Believe that we can change the world, that things are getting better and that we are the building blocks that the future will stand on. Believe in yourself, your value, your worth, even when no one else does. And believe in your right to speak up for what is right, walk away from what is no longer serving you and seek out the answer to that calling deep inside you. Believe in that bone deep ache that is calling you towards something bigger and better.

Today Keith and I are leaving Los Angeles, onto our next adventure, onto the future of our lives together. So little in our future is certain and I’m eager for all the surprises that are in store for us. When I arrived in Los Angeles I never believed that it would bring this kind, generous, funny, caring man into my life. And while I cannot say I have loved my time here, I love him and if it took eight confusing years to get to this point, than it will have been worth it.

Goodbye, Los Angeles. I can’t say I’ll miss you, but I can say that I’m glad of our time together.