When I was 21, I decided to move to Los Angeles. Out of the blue. I’d never expressed much interest in permanently relocating out of Ohio before, but following a semester in Washington, D.C., by golly, I felt invincible enough to do just about anything.
My mother, understandably, was flummoxed. She posed every question in the world that a parent could possibly conjure. “Where will you live?” “Where will you work?” “What if something happens to you while you’re out there; you don’t know anyone…?” “What if you hate it there?” “What if you miss home?” “What if your car breaks down on the way?” “What if Gael Garcia Bernal decides he wants to marry you?”
Okay, no, she didn’t ask that last one. Duh. It’s obvious that he does. He responded to me on Twitter once. I still think it was real, no matter what his official account says.
Anyway, the thing is, my mother never once said, “Don’t go, Fayza.” Despite her unanswered questions and despite her personal fears. Do you know why? Because she knew it was good for me. As hard as it was to see her eldest daughter pack up her inconsistent-at-best 1989 Honda Accord with everything she could stuff into it and head off across the country to inhabit a city she’d never even visited, my mom knew it was the right move for me. To date, it was one of the most pivotal life decisions I’ve ever made. In a good way.
Why did I tell you this story? Because. Because I like stories? Well, yes, but there’s a point; I’ve become very sage over the years, dontcha know. The moral is this: Sometimes, it’s hard to let a member of your family fly. But spread their wings they must. Because fly they should.
And taking flight from the family nest I am, again. For today, with both a smile and a sigh, I turn in my Schipulite badge and bid the roost adieu.
“But what now?” you ask. Don’t worry; I’m not dying. Nor am I leaving the city of Houston. I know, right?
If you couldn’t tell, I’m quite passionate about writing. This hunger knows no bounds (and, some would say, no boundaries). I also happen to be a Twitteraholic and a Facebook fiend. And when a position as the Social Media Editor at CultureMap was staring me in the face, I knew it was my time to flap ye olde wings again.
But I don’t do goodbyes, yo. Because the strangers who became my sisters and brothers at this company are people who will remain in my life for years to come. And the knowledge I’ve earned, the skills I’ve learned, and the client experiences that I’ve had will stay with me and fuel my growth ’til my brain can’t hold no more. I’ve been a lucky little person, that’s for sure. And I take that luck with me in my pockets. Like office supplies. Um, did I just say that? Ignore me.
So this is not a goodbye, ’cause HEY! Here I am, loud and clear, still kickin’! And so are you. It’s a see-you-later, at best, and a now-we’re-gonna-have-to-make-lunch-plans at worst. ‘Cause you know where to find me. So please do.
SchipulCon09
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We’ve been busy as bees here in the