Growing up, I was always looking forward (rather impatiently) to the next thing. And, if I’m being honest, I still have a strong tendency to jump months, even years, ahead in my imagination anticipating what is around the corner.
Over the last few months, I’ve been steadily prepping for my move to London — I’m getting my masters in Fashion Journalism at Central Saint Martins (!)- and finding myself in a constant transition of being neither here nor there. Mentally, my mind has been racing to make sure I have all the necessary things sorted (visa √ housing √ some sort of safe cash √) and physically it’s been a rollercoaster of eery calm and downright anxiety. Of course, there’s a lot of excitement - after all, I’m moving to a city I’ve spend literal decades eyeing from afar, and I have the incredible opportunity to study an industry that is integral to my identity ( bold words I know but it is what it is). However, this excitement isn’t the same variation that I’ve felt with other new beginnings, like starting high school or moving across the country for undergrad. This excitement carries with it the weight of taking the leap to move to a country I haven’t visited before, really setting out on my own (more on that in a bit), and saying farewell-for-nows to my family and my friends.
As just mentioned, I’ll be journeying solo. And while I’ll have the university there to guide me if needed, grad school is likely, and rightfully so, a bit more independent in nature. Staying in affiliated housing means certain securities will be granted, but there won’t be the Williams- like quality of having group dinners with your dorm mates or having JAs there to serve as a big-sister/brother fill-in. Having spent the last couple years since undergrad living at home for which I am extremely grateful, I’m now getting ready to move to a city where there won’t immediately be a tight-knit community waiting for me. I’ll likely have to go out and cultivate it, not unlike the friendships I’ve gained in the last two years.
It can’t go without saying that these friendships are also what makes this move feel so much more mature as I’ve found myself in a place where I’ve managed to both start and nurture friendships that didn’t just rely on the naive belief that friends stayed friends because they were friends. These friendships required work, patience, and are still ever-works in progress. They're the fruits of labor from both myself and the people whose love and support I am forever grateful for.
For my family, the same goes— when you get older you inevitably start to see your parents and siblings in less of a “you’re related to me” way and more of a “you’re a fully-fleshed human being with dreams, ambitions, thoughts, and ideas” way. When you’re young, you take your family for granted and as you get older you realize just how much you owe it to them to live a fulfilled life and enable them to do the same. Because love is a powerful force and the family type knows few comparisons. So yea, this move is a real “adult” move I guess you’d say.
Yet here we is.
After taking mental mementos from time spent with family & friends and doing the usual hugs and waves, I’m now preparing myself for “Michella Livin’ in London” (which honestly is going to be a pretty lit series, so stay tuned).