I have prided myself on being a Southern Californian as long as I can remember. There are so many things about my hometown and home state for which I have absolutely fallen. After all, we're home to endlessly sunny days, the cast of The Hills, and the types of girls about which Katy Perry sings.
I've also always been engaged in a love affair with the city of Los Angeles. To me, L.A. has long been my city of dreams- an inspired, beautiful place rich in the history of one of American's most prominent and influential industries. I loved that people flocked to Los Angeles in pursuit of admittedly far-fetched dreams, ones that I once shared and am currently struggling to let go. L.A. is glamorous, gritty in the best way possible, and eternally draped in red carpets. It's my home. So why, at this moment, is it leaving me so disenchanted?
Well, while Los Angeles is indeed a mecca of dreamers and visionaries, it's also home to overindulgence, an excess of superficiality, and a number of phonies. I've realized recently that living in Los Angeles most of my life, while in so many ways a blessing, has also subjected me to a kind of materialistic pressure unseen elsewhere. I am not a Kardashian and I never will be, but over the years I have felt myself involuntarily striving towards some form of this wealth and beauty. Superficiality and an unhealthy desire for celebrity pervade this region of California. For most, that is undeniable. And it's leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth, not to mention a thoroughly botched spray tan.
I'm sure that these thoughts stem from my recent visit to my boyfriend's hometown in Northern California, just outside of San Francisco. I couldn't adequately explain it to you, but something up there tugged at my heart and opened my eyes. It was just felt more real. For one thing, I wasn't being haunted by slews of preteens dressed like Brandy Melville models or hearing about my once-teammmate's brother's friend who just got an agent. The streets were green and the people were kind and I felt... different. San Francisco was inspired and graceful, as well. I just appreciated it all immensely.
I remember having a conversation last summer with a friend who now lives out of state. Vaguely, I recall her saying something about appreciating her escape from SoCal and from its superficiality. At that moment, I wasn't exactly sure what she meant. I even went so far as to go on the defensive. I remember thinking, what was she talking about? This is Los Angeles, lady, everybody wants to be here. But now, I think I understand.
And I'm not sure what do about it.
I want you to know that I don't think that every person that has ever set foot in the Los Angeles region is money-grubbing or fame-seeking. I was raised here, and although I have my doubts, I still love it. Moreover, I have such respect for the people who come to L.A. to chase ambitions and succeed in the entertainment industry. For the longest time I have wanted to be part of that, and I am not sure even now whether or not I no longer do.
I just wanted to express that my visit to NorCal was refreshing. It reminded me that there's more to the world than my precious Los Angeles. And although I've always known that, I'm only now truly recognizing it.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
On the new year.
Happy 2013, everyone!
I can't believe we've officially said goodbye to 2012, but I am ready to bid that year adieu.
Now, I've always been a sucker for the concept of new beginnings. I live for the promise of a clean slate and the opportunity to give myself another chance- at being nicer, at being healthier, and at being better, generally. 2013's start gives me that seemingly overdone type of hope that characterizes the modern "New Year." It motivates me, as cliche as it may seem, to be a greater version of myself. I love that.
But in truth, this year I have a slightly different perspective on the concept of resolutions. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older or because I'm starting to view the world more realistically, but I've realized that the stroke of midnight on the 31st doesn't really imply the start of a new life. The turning of the new year doesn't magically give us the strength, or the motivation, or the determination we deemed ourselves as lacking 12 or 24 hours prior. We're the same people. I can try, but the changing of the date doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly and devoutly resolve to read more, or go to the gym three times a week, or be more compassionate. It just doesn't work like that.
That's not because I don't wholeheartedly believe in or support the concept of bettering oneself. It's because that, in actuality, if we want to make changes in our lives, or go after something, it doesn't matter what year it is. We can accomplish those things, or begin to, the day, the minute, or the second we resolve within ourselves to finally and actually do so. To realize that we deserve this change, or that our friends deserve to be treated better, or the like. It's not the new year that does that, it's us.
2012 was an interesting year for me. I remember thinking at the onset of last year that I wanted to be braver, to take more chances, and to stop being afraid of making mistakes. And looking back on the last twelve months, I'd say I did that. Last year, I truly adjusted to my new life in San Diego as a college student. I met some of my closest school friends in fateful and serendipitous ways. I can explain our friendships as nothing less than meant to have happened. I had my heart broken, a few times. And for anyone curious, it's getting fixed. I've come to appreciate my family and my life at home, and realized that my parents are truly there for me whatever the circumstances. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever knew, that I can bloom and be happy in new places, and that I should grow to trust myself a little more. I know now that I'd rather live and love at the risk of getting hurt, than remain within the barricades I built for myself long ago.
This year, I hope to be better. I've resolved, as you'll probably have guessed, to have no formal resolutions. I'm just going to try to become a greater version of myself- to be kinder, to worry less, to finally start going after some things I've long wanted. I'm going to take it day by day, and that's all I can really ask of myself.
So this year, I'm daring myself (and you) to love a little harder, laugh a little more, and be, in whatever way, a little better.
I'm sending you all the best wishes.
Much luck and happy, happy 2013.
I can't believe we've officially said goodbye to 2012, but I am ready to bid that year adieu.
Now, I've always been a sucker for the concept of new beginnings. I live for the promise of a clean slate and the opportunity to give myself another chance- at being nicer, at being healthier, and at being better, generally. 2013's start gives me that seemingly overdone type of hope that characterizes the modern "New Year." It motivates me, as cliche as it may seem, to be a greater version of myself. I love that.
But in truth, this year I have a slightly different perspective on the concept of resolutions. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older or because I'm starting to view the world more realistically, but I've realized that the stroke of midnight on the 31st doesn't really imply the start of a new life. The turning of the new year doesn't magically give us the strength, or the motivation, or the determination we deemed ourselves as lacking 12 or 24 hours prior. We're the same people. I can try, but the changing of the date doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly and devoutly resolve to read more, or go to the gym three times a week, or be more compassionate. It just doesn't work like that.
That's not because I don't wholeheartedly believe in or support the concept of bettering oneself. It's because that, in actuality, if we want to make changes in our lives, or go after something, it doesn't matter what year it is. We can accomplish those things, or begin to, the day, the minute, or the second we resolve within ourselves to finally and actually do so. To realize that we deserve this change, or that our friends deserve to be treated better, or the like. It's not the new year that does that, it's us.
2012 was an interesting year for me. I remember thinking at the onset of last year that I wanted to be braver, to take more chances, and to stop being afraid of making mistakes. And looking back on the last twelve months, I'd say I did that. Last year, I truly adjusted to my new life in San Diego as a college student. I met some of my closest school friends in fateful and serendipitous ways. I can explain our friendships as nothing less than meant to have happened. I had my heart broken, a few times. And for anyone curious, it's getting fixed. I've come to appreciate my family and my life at home, and realized that my parents are truly there for me whatever the circumstances. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever knew, that I can bloom and be happy in new places, and that I should grow to trust myself a little more. I know now that I'd rather live and love at the risk of getting hurt, than remain within the barricades I built for myself long ago.
This year, I hope to be better. I've resolved, as you'll probably have guessed, to have no formal resolutions. I'm just going to try to become a greater version of myself- to be kinder, to worry less, to finally start going after some things I've long wanted. I'm going to take it day by day, and that's all I can really ask of myself.
So this year, I'm daring myself (and you) to love a little harder, laugh a little more, and be, in whatever way, a little better.
I'm sending you all the best wishes.
Much luck and happy, happy 2013.
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