This article was written before I moved to New York City, reflecting on my thoughts and emotions in the days leading up to the move. At the time, I hadn’t yet left California, and these were my feelings and experiences as I prepared for this big transition.

It’s almost 10 p.m. on January 3rd, and here I am sprawled across my mom’s bed. It’s my favorite spot in the apartment, the place that’s always been a source of comfort, even though she’s always complaining about me never making it after I lay down, and, to be fair, she’s right. I rarely bother to make it after, but that’s beside the point. At 25, I’m technically a whole grown woman; some of my peers are married with kids, yet this ritual of retreating to her bed remains unchanged. But tonight, there’s a quiet weight to it. In less than four days, I’ll be packing up and heading to the East Coast for a new job, which means my days of casually barging into her room or announcing, “I’m going to lay down on MY bed,” are numbered. Sure, I’ll be back in July for her 60th birthday, God willing, but the dynamic will shift, and I can’t help but feel the bittersweetness of that. I guess this is just one of the many things that come with growing up. 

In the days leading up to my move to New York City, I’ve tried to keep it together, though not always with success. Despite my outward calm, I’m a deeply emotional and sensitive person—something most people are surprised to learn. To keep track of my feelings, I even have a “crying log” (yes, really); the dramatic, emotional side of me is alive and well. But back to the story. As January 7th inches closer, I knew this moment was coming. The emotional tidal wave of leaving California for New York City. And here I am, right in the middle of it, writing this article while watching a two-hour compilation of Totally Spies. 

I remember the moment when I got the first indication from my recruiter that the job offer was likely mine. I was sitting on the couch, crying to my older brother. The offer wasn’t even official yet, but the idea that it was practically within reach, and with it, the prospect of leaving California for New York City, sent me spiraling. It was a lot to process, and honestly, I didn’t expect it to hit me as hard as it did. But here I am, facing the reality of it all, and it feels overwhelming in a way I couldn’t have prepared for. 

Since graduating from Syracuse University in 2022, I knew that I wanted to live somewhere on the East Coast. After being laid off from my first post-grad job, I set my sights on landing a role in New York City, and now I have it. I got exactly what I wanted. But even though everything is aligning, I can’t shake the emotional weight of it all. Moving across the country, to a completely new city and a whole new coast, is a lot more emotional than I realized. 

I’ve never been one to shy away from change. I attended 11 schools and lived in 3 different countries. At 11 years old, I spent a year in boarding school. Independent? That’s me, probably to the point of hyper-independence. Yet, even with this experience in adapting to new situations and environments, it’s still hitting me hard. I think the emotional rollercoaster is partly because after I was laid off, life seemed to come to a standstill. While I didn’t exactly hit pause on everything else, I was laser-focused on finding a new job and that meant that all other aspects of my life took a back seat. 

Now, as I prepare to leave California behind and start a new chapter in NYC with some of my closest friends by my side, I realize that this new beginning is also a reminder of the intentionality I need to bring into my life. This next phase isn’t just about working a job; it’s about actively creating the life I’ve always wanted and putting intention behind every step I take. But it’s also recognising that, as much as we plan, there’s a certain unpredictability to life we can’t control. Embracing the uncertainty is part of the process, and it’s something I have lean into, even when it feels uncomfortable. 

I was talking about this with my friend, Hyejun, recently. We’re both 25 and first met each other at 18 at Syracuse. She moved to LA after graduating college for a job, and she’s from Maryland. We reflected on how scary and nerve-wracking it is to be in this space right now. We have the things we’ve always wanted for our futures, but achieving them requires so much intention and forward thinking. And on top of that, we’re dealing with all the other pressures that come with adult life. 

I’m sure we’ll keep feeling this way as we get older, but it’s surreal to think that just a few years ago, I was solely focused on graduating college. Now, at 25, it feels like there’s a never-ending list of things that need to be done to build the life that I want. It’s overwhelming, and dare I say it, exhausting. 

As I prepare to leave, I’ve been saying my goodbyes to family, childhood friends, and my church community. And sure, I’ll literally be back in July, and my “home base” with my mom and older brother will still be here in California, but this marks the start of something new. I’ve been telling everyone that, at 25, it feels like I’m just now starting adulthood. I’ve technically been an adult since 18, paying taxes and covering my bills, but this new chapter feels different. I’m excited for what’s to come but also deeply scared about it. 

I’m incredibly blessed to be moving to a city where I already have a vibrant community waiting for me and friends who’ve been manifesting my move to the city since college. Honestly, I never imagined it would happen this soon. And by ‘soon,’ I don’t mean the time it took to find a job; that part definitely felt like forever. But from my first conversation with recruiters to interviews, to receiving a job offer—it all happened in about a month or less. Looking back, the entire process was nothing short of a blessing, a true Godsend. 

Even though my anxiety is on edge, I also recognize that these are very normal things to be feeling. Adulting is weird; it’s an ongoing journey that never really feels like it reaches a point of understanding. We’re constantly going through different stages, and of course, there’s no how-to guide for all of this. It doesn’t matter how many books, podcasts, or videos you watch on the art of adulting; no amount of external advice can replace the reality that we’re all figuring it out as we go. Each person’s path is unique, and what works for someone else might not be the right path for your own life. That isn’t to say to disregard all the wisdom that people decide to share; it’s valuable at the end of the day. However, adulting is truly a deeply personal experience; it’s your life and no one else’s. 

So, as I leave the familiar warmth and sunshine of Southern California behind and head into the fast-paced, ever-changing rhythm and, of course, season-changing New York City, I’m stepping fully into my adulting era. The transition feels both exciting and nerve-wracking, but I remind myself every day that nervousness isn’t a bad thing—it’s just part of growth. This is what I wanted, and now that I’m here, with less than 4 days till I leave for NYC, I have to embrace it. Just as the seasons shift, so too will I, adapting and evolving with whatever comes next. I always say adapting is my greatest strength in interviews, and it’s a mindset I’m carrying into this new chapter. Each challenge is an opportunity to grow into the person I’m becoming.