My boyfriend at the time told me I had my “head in the clouds,” so I convinced myself the dream was unrealistic. (Perhaps I did have questionable taste in men?)<\/p>\n
At 25, I landed a dream role in London, where I worked my way up to an editor position within two years. My career was going well, but America was always in the back of my mind \u2014 and, so, I eventually started firing off my r\u00e9sum\u00e9 to a few US publications in the hope that I might get a response.<\/p>\n
I was nine months into a new relationship when I was approached about a senior reporter role in Los Angeles. This time, I refused to choose a man over my dream, and so \u2014 days after my 30th birthday \u2014 I left my family, friends, and very supportive boyfriend to move over 5,000 miles away.<\/p>\n
After 16 weeks in LA, I called it quits and returned to Europe<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
After returning to London, I spent some short stints working remotely in places like Spain.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Kirsty McCormack<\/p>\n
Not only did I take a pay cut<\/a> when I moved to sunny California, but a slight title drop, too.<\/p>\n As much as I liked LA, my new role wasn’t a great fit for me. Deep down, I knew I wouldn’t love this job as much as my last one, but taking the opportunity wasn’t about my career. This was about getting the chance to live in the US.<\/p>\n I only lasted seven weeks on the job, and lived in LA for a total of 16 weeks. It wasn’t easy to find other work due to my visa, and I missed my (now long-distance) boyfriend like crazy.<\/p>\n By the end of my stint there, I was spending most of my time sitting alone on Malibu beaches<\/a>, feeling lonely and trying not to spend money.<\/p>\n After admitting defeat, I returned to London, feeling ashamed of how things had turned out. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d failed.<\/p>\n Being back in London wasn’t easy, but I eventually got another chance to live in the US<\/p>\n Just 10 days after my return, my boyfriend left to start a new job in Italy. Our relationship ended three months later, and I spiraled into a deep depression. I felt empty and lost.<\/p>\n Now, I was working as a reporter again, but after everything I’d just been through, I didn’t have the same ambition I once did. I wasn’t even sure if I belonged in London, but I stayed \u2014 and when the COVID-19 pandemic shut everything down, I felt grateful to be close to my family.<\/p>\n As life returned to “normal,” I started spending short stints working remotely in Spain<\/a>, Italy, and Portugal. It was during one of these trips that I was approached about a job in New York City.<\/p>\n After a couple of calls, I accepted the offer and signed the contract while still in Spain. There was zero hesitation: New York had always been my dream.<\/p>\n I was now 35, single, and without kids or pets. It’s now or never, I told myself.<\/p>\n My short-lived LA adventure taught me a very important lesson<\/p>\n In hindsight, I can see how much I learned from my time in LA.\u00a0<\/p>\n Kirsty McCormack<\/p>\n Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Looking back now, I can admit that I didn’t put much effort into making a life for myself in LA. I didn’t attempt to make friends or build a social life; I didn’t even try that hard to find another job.<\/p>\n I admitted defeat pretty early on, and that’s OK. Although LA didn’t work out, I know that \u2014 had I not moved to California<\/a> \u2014 I may never have had the confidence to eventually accept the job on the East Coast.<\/p>\n Those 16 weeks in LA proved to me that I could step outside my comfort zone and handle living on my own. Most importantly, I learned about my own resilience.<\/p>\n When I accepted the job in Manhattan, I knew that if the role didn’t work out or New York didn’t live up to my expectations, the worst-case scenario would just look like packing my things up and moving back home<\/a> \u2014 and this wouldn’t make me a failure.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n