The next chapter.
This is one of the scariest, yet most exciting, blog posts I will ever write. And I’m not really sure how to organize it. Should I start with the whole background or just drop the news? Either way, this is huge for me, so I’m going to try to paint the picture as vividly as possible for you.
I think I’ll just drop the news…
I’m moving to New York.
In March 2019, I’m taking myself, my dreams and as much of my Gothenburg home I can carry across the Atlantic Ocean to live in the city I fell in love with back in 2010. A couple months ago, I started planning and bought a one way ticket. These feelings swirling around in me the last few months have spanned the entire spectrum – anxiety, nausea, excitement, desire, happiness, sadness, panic, tranquility. And they’ll probably keep swirling until the second that airplane takes off from Kastrup Airport in Copenhagen on March 18th (Btw, dad, can you please drive me?).
But that’s fine. That’s reality. These emotions are what I love about this extraordinary thing we call life.
And now to the background part. I first visited New York in June 2010. It was my first time outside of Europe. The long flight had my brain all fluffy and foggy, but I still felt filled with energy and excitement. From the taxi window I could see the image of that well known Manhattan skyline as we headed into the Holland Tunnel. Dark, loud and dirty impressions were the last things I collected before we exited the tunnel and the lights of Manhattan shone brightly in front of us.
SOLD.
When I got back to Sweden, I wrote down a list with everything to do before I turned thirty. At the top of the list was to live in New York City.
Since that first magical trip, I’ve visited numerous times. And with each departure, a heavy sadness sets in and covers me with a damp blanket. The most recent time I was there – in May of this year – I asked myself as the sunset touched my cheeks through the window of the bus “What the hell am I doing? Why am I leaving this place?” And that is when the seed was planted. After a few days home, and still a bit depressed, I started thinking ‘what if I make my dream evolve into a goal and that goal into reality?’ I may have missed the ‘before thirty’ part, but as I bought my plane ticket, my heart was literally skipping beats in my chest. Reality.
Here are some words about the future. I’m extremely humbled getting into this whole thing. I know it will be a lot of work to achieve my dreams; hell, I may not even get there. If I do, there will be a million challenges that will make this mission difficult, frustrating and exhausting. But it is not impossible. And lately I’ve come to realize that there is no such thing as failing. There’s only learning, growing and gaining experience. Even if I return to my beloved Gothenburg after the first month, I will still be proud of myself for having listened to my heart.
So what am I going to do?
My goal is to stay in New York City for at least a year, and at this moment, I’m scanning, proposing and creating opportunities to freelance within sports journalism and content production. I’m hoping to collect a couple of work commitments before I move, and continue to find new freelance agreements as I go. And for as long as I can stay afloat – economically speaking – I will call New York MY city. Just typing that gave me goosebumps.
At last, I’m so glad to finally be able to share this with you all and not have to keep the excitement of my next chapter to myself any longer. If you have any advice about living and working abroad, know of a job opportunity or can provide some words of wisdom, please don’t hesitate to contact me! I’m so thankful for any help and positive energy I can get!
Finally. Dad, I know you’re sad. I am too. But you know I have to do this and the fact that you put your sadness and heartache aside to let me fulfill my dreams makes my soul swell with love and gratitude. I love you. And I’ll be home sooner than you know.