Four months back in Seattle, and dare I say it’s been as much of a mindfuck as the first four months in New York were.
But there are moments when I sigh that big let-it-all-go breath that feels so good in yoga classes. When I just feel reassured that I’m right where I need to be.
- Like when my friends all rally around one another – whether it’s giving me tips on freelance work or showering parents-to-be with baby gifts.
- When the Seahawks won their trip to the Super Bowl and my friends and I all jumped up and down and screamed together – big difference from last year when I watched the game alone and jet-lagged.
- When my uncle or cousin texts and I know my family is a 30-minute drive from me.
- When I see the jagged peaks of the Olympics, the rounded summits of Rainier, Baker or St. Helens or the proud Cascades standing tall to the East. This place is stunning.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.