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Out of Orlando and Into Adulthood

Erika Rasso
Aug 1, 2015
3 min read

It's been a while. Actually, it's been a really long while since my last blog post. So much has changed since I wrote about how much I love musicals, or how I was most likely moving to Los Angeles. I graduated, left my two jobs, went on vacation, moved out of my apartment in Orlando, and I'm back home with my parents. Long story short, I backed out of the L.A. move for now. Emphasis on the for now. Things could change at any time. Moving across the country to an expensive city without a job was not sitting well with me, and I decided to take things a bit slower.

I needed time. I needed a reason to leave.

I loved Orlando, and I was happy there. That was one of the reasons I decided not to move to L.A., because the thought of living anywhere other than with my friends in Orlando filled me with dread. But by the time I decided to stay, it was too late to renew my lease. Furthermore, Orlando wasn't good for me. My closeknit group of friends were moving out and moving on, and I wasn't a student anymore. The UCF area is a little safe haven for college students, it has everything you could ever need...except for reality. Staying in Orlando would've done nothing to help my career or my dreams, it would've only been a security blanket (and I already have a perfectly good blanket).

So, I'm back home in West Palm Beach.

At first, I viewed my move back into my parent's house as punishment for not getting into grad school and backing out of L.A., but after one measly little night here, I now see it as a wake up call. It doesn't feel right here. I thought that when I moved home, I would revert back into my old routine, my old ways. I thought that I would realize how homesick I've been and never want to leave. Instead, I just feel like a guest, a stranger on vacation in a small town with nothing left for me. It isn't home anymore, and maybe that's a good thing. I know now that I have to be on my own, and in a place where I can flourish.

The only thing holding me back is fear.

The friends that I planned to go to L.A. with found a wonderful place for the two of them. By the time I'm ready to go, I'll have to live in a studio apartment. I loved living alone in Orlando, I'm just scared that I won't be in a safe area. I'm scared that if I move out there for a job and don't like it, I won't be able to find another one. I'm scared that I won't be able to find a job any better than a gig at Starbucks. I'm scared that I'll be stuck living like a guest in my parents house for far longer than I want to. Fear is what kept me from leaving the first time, and I'm naive to think that it won't come back the next time I decide to move. If I can overcome my fear, I know I can find happiness.

My mother is pressuring me to start a career in West Palm, but I don't think she gets how lost I feel. All I know is, I need to make a decision and stick to it, because I won't last very long here.

So far, adulthood kinda stinks.