Why I Ran Away from Home

I moved to New York City six months ago. I came after I applied for a job at a company that I had been with for 6 years. I came in a Uhaul that I drove by myself from Atlanta. Just me and my dog.

I don’t have that job anymore. I don’t have that dog anymore either.

I quit the job a week ago, and I drove the dog to Detroit three months ago to live with my cousin. He’s her dog now, and they are head over heels in love with each other.

I ran away from home six months ago. It started six months prior with a trip to New York for the job. Several of my colleagues and I were visiting the city to work at a gala celebrating the company’s 15th anniversary. I knew before I left Atlanta that I was going to want to stay in New York. I did. I applied for a job at the New York site and I left. It wasn’t that easy actually. It was months and months of delays, a few tears, lots of prayers, and lots of drama. But, when it happened, it happened at the perfect time. I was flush with cash from my taxes. My kid, my 20-year-old daughter, was pretty much ready for it to happen and we made it happen.

My daughter initially moved into a shared housing for students. She had her own room and shared a kitchen. I visited her a month later, and she didn’t really like it. Her room smelled like weed and Bath and Body Works products, and she was ready to bounce. So we packed up her stuff in her car, I changed my flight to Detroit to La Guardia, and drove 12 hours to move her into my mother’s house in Detroit.

My kid fell in love with Detroit. It’s her hometown, she lived there until she was 12 years old. She was so happy to be back around her family, and her friends. With a few referrals from me, she quickly fell into the Detroit rap scene, which is nurturing girl rappers which she happens to be. She was happy and cool. I was now free to really do me.

Until I quit my job, I hated New York. Now, just a week later. I love New York. I love the streets, I love the people, I love the struggle. My mother once told me that I enjoyed suffering for art. She was right. That’s not to say that I would like to stop struggling for it financially, but even after that, you still struggle. But, I digress.

I went to New York, and I hated my job. Communications were terrible, the environment was toxic. But, I had a few bucks saved, a few connections, talent, and faith. So, I quit.

I can’t be mad at Year Up. The company gave me a lot. Great friends, amazing memories, and 7 years of paychecks that paid off bills, bought 5 cars, moved me around, took me on trips. I was leaving a company where I had kicked ass for six-and-a-half of those seven years, and now it was time to go with a smile on my face and on my own terms.

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