Maybe it's not about the Place

Lately, I've been asking myself a question that feels way too big for one person to hold:

Where am I supposed to build my life?

For a while, I thought the question was about Texas. Or California. Or Reno. Or whether I made a mistake moving. I kept trying to solve it like it was a math equation. If I pick the right state, the right city, the right job, then I'll finally feel settled.

But that's not really what's underneath it.

Underneath it is this quiet fear of being alone. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of not having built-in-plans. Of not having someone to cook dinner with or sit next to on the couch. I realized I wasn't just questioning geography-I was questioning whether I could create a life that feels full without depending on one person to make it that way.

And then I started thinking about Newport Beach.

Every summer growing up, my family would go there. We'd take the ferry to Balboa Island and get Ice Cream bars. We'd spend whole days at the beach without sitting on our phones. Our family friends had a boat, and sometimes we'd take it out and feel like life was bigger than our little routines back home.

Somewhere along the way, I told myself:

One day, I'm going to have a bakery here.

Not just a bakery. A place with thrifted couches and mismatched chairs. A place where people could come after the worst day of their lives and feel a little better. A place where birthdays are celebrated and homework gets done and coffee turns into long conversations. A place that feels warm.

For a long time, I couldn't tell if that dream was about the beach... or about the people I used to be surrounded by.

But when I really sit with it, I realize it's about something deeper.

When I imagine that life- living by the ocean, walking to my little shop, knowing the regulars, building something that feels like mine- I don't feel anxious. I feel expansive. I feel inspired. I feel like I'm moving toward something instead of clinging to something.

And that feeling matters.

I don't have it all figured out. I don't know if I'll actually own a bakery. I don't know if California is forever. I don't know exactly where I'll land.

But I do know this.

I don't want to build my life just around who's available to keep me company.

I want to build it around what makes me feel alive.

Maybe this chapter in Texas is just that-a chapter. A learning phase. A stepping stone. Maybe the point isn't to decide the rest of my life right now. Maybe the point is to start paying attention to what lights me up.

Right now, the idea of exploring that beach town- not impulsively, but intentionally- fills me with a kind of excitement I haven't felt in a long time.

And maybe that's enough for now.

Maybe it's not about the place.

Maybe it's about finally choosing a life that feels like mine.