I closed on my first house today. The first house I ever bought, the first house I saw a future in, and the first house I've ever had to say goodbye to. I didn't even make it two years in that place, and looking back it's so bizarre to be able to pinpoint the moment I realized I wasn't going to be spending much longer in that house, and that was even before I'd lived in it for a year.

I grew so much in that house, even in the short span of 18 months. It's where I truly became comfortable in myself, happy to spend a weekend night in my living room, watching 20/20 and hanging with my dog. Where I realized the importance of a good front porch, a comfortable seating arrangement, and a good cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. I learned how to fix common plumbing problems (and some not so common), wire a chandelier, and weed whack.

Nothing is guaranteed in life, no matter how much you wish it were. Wanting to further my career at my former job, wanting to share that house with someone, none of it mattered because I had no control over any of it. Circumstances changed, people changed, and what once seemed so certain suddenly became unfathomable.

I also never imagined I'd finally make it to Los Angeles, complete with a job I'd been dreaming about since college. I sat in the Quail Springs theatre on December 3rd, watching a special screening of La La land, praying and hoping the entire time to get the job I had been dreaming about for the past month. To find myself dancing along Mt. Hollywood Dr, most likely by myself, in the most comfortable weather, or spend a Saturday hiking along the PCH. I wanted to insert myself in the movie as quickly as possible. I was able to see La La Land again tonight, but this time it was at a screening on the studio lot. I left my desk and walked a couple hundred feet to the screening theatre, settling into the plush seat.

18 months ago I never imagined I'd be leaving Oklahoma City and the life I had built over time. But in, what felt like, an instant, everything changed. At the time for the worse, only to ultimately be for the better in the end. I got emotional when I saw the sappy Instagram post of my home's new owner, my house featured in the background, but there was no better way to close the book on my Oklahoma life than by watching the sites of La La Land play out in front of my eyes, in more ways than one.

Now it's time for the next book.

It's been a month since I left just about everything I knew behind me in a trail of dust on the Oklahoma highway. 1,451 miles later, my car was a mess and my dog wanted nothing more than to end up at our final destination. But end up in LA we did, and thus began my new journey.

I always said I was the person who would move anywhere, anytime if the right opportunity presented itself. I prided myself on "having a home, but no hometown" to tie me down to one place. While both statements are still true, I never fully comprehended how much of a life change this would be. I owned a home, had an amazing circle of friends, and knew where the best happy hours were in Oklahoma City. Now, I'm starting all over. There's an unexplainable difference between knowing everything is going to change and experiencing it. It's not good or bad, just incredibly different.

As my parents and I jumped on the highway after loading the U-Haul all day, my stomach was in knots. I had barely eaten all day and every time I tried, nausea swept through my body. Was I making the right choice, fitting what I could in the trailer and heading west? Would I crash and burn on the coast, left to realize I should have stayed in the mid-west where it was comfortable? The good news was that I was already too far along in the process to change my mind, but where there had once been complete confidence in my decision to leave, only fear and doubt were making their presence known.

I wasn't expecting it. I had told my closest friends I was in dire need of a change, so why, when it was suddenly upon me, was I losing faith in my decision? I hadn't expected Oklahoma City to become such a part of my life, living there for six years after college. I hadn't expected to buy a house or even envision my life remaining there. But I also hadn't expected the change in me, and growth of confidence in myself over those six years, that told me it was time to do what was best for me. To make myself the priority, wherever that may lead me.

When you go sky diving and jump out of a plane, you expect to be terrified. When you realize you've fallen in love, you expect to be terrified. When you make a life changing decision completely on your own accord, that you sought out and worked to make happen, take it from me, at some point you will find yourself terrified. But embrace that fear. Recognize that you're making the conscious decision to leave comfort behind to make you a better person. A happier person. Sooner or later, I know that comfortable feeling will come back to me, albeit in a new shape, but I will never forget the uncertainty that preceded it. And that, I think, will make it that much sweeter.