Is it LA, or is it me?

Notes from my first 24 hours in New York.

The adventure begins

I always feel a rush of excitement when I get to the airport. It doesn’t matter how early it is or how little sleep I’ve gotten—something about the ritual of arriving, checking in, standing in line with people who are about to go somewhere—it's everything to me.

Usually, that excitement wavers once I hit a (almost inevitable) travel snag. But today, when I got three texts in a row—first, my flight was delayed two hours (doable). Then four (ugh, but fine). Then twelve (no, thank you!)—I was faced with a decision to make.

more on this delight later

Who is she?

I took a deep breath. Walked up to the counter and approached the woman working with kindness. And thankfully, I was rerouted onto a flight just four hours later. Not ideal, but also better than waiting around for 12+ hours. I felt… peaceful. Calm. Like I had nowhere else to be. Like this was all part of the adventure.

I love that version of myself. The one who doesn’t go negative. The one who adapts. The one who surrenders while keeping the faith. Maybe that’s what travel gives me—permission to soften, to receive, to believe things will work out.

Currently

Now that I’ve made it to New York, I’ll be staying for two full weeks—no job to return to, no packed itinerary. Just me, a sublet, reuniting with old friends, and the desire to feel more like myself again.

LA vs. NY

LA has been home for a while now (three years, in fact!). It’s comfort, proximity to family, weekend hiking, a full-time job (until recently), sunlight, my boyfriend. And I’m so grateful for the way it held me after losing my dad, and through finding my footing again.

But in buzzy cities like New York or Paris? They’re where I feel the most lit up.

There’s this version of me that only shows up when I’m walking through city streets, coffee in hand, eavesdropping on strangers, making spontaneous plans. She’s a lot more fearless. Maybe a bit delusional (in the best way?). She wears lipstick and feels like anything is possible.

Is it LA, or is it me? Maybe both.

My dad was from Queens. An East Coaster at heart. Maybe that’s why this city always feels like home to me. Like coming back to a place I’m meant to know more deeply.

I think what I’m realizing is: LA gave me calm. NY gives me momentum. And I think I need both, but lately I’ve been wondering if I’ve been settling into a version of life that fits a past version of me. I just feel like there’s so much more of me that I want to experience. And more of the world, too.

Highlights from yesterday

Yesterday morning started at Apollo Bagels—buzzing by 8 a.m. on a street that already felt awake. So many people out running, taking their kids to school, walking their dogs...I don’t usually go for cream cheese, but the crunchy sourdough topped with tomato, olive oil, and pepper left a serious impression.

Then a stop at Devoción. A cappuccino with almond milk—hot, silky, perfectly balanced. A woman in front of me was facetiming her partner, pointing at pastries, saying, “¡Delicioso! Lo quiero todo!” So cute. Ten minutes later, I saw her again, a few blocks away, painting a mural while dipping her pastry into coffee. For whatever reason, that put a huge smile on my face.

I also hit up a Reformation sample sale. Spent countless hours in Strand bookstore. Enjoyed my favorite throwback meal at Cafe Mogador. Met up with an old friend.

What’s next

And as I take these long walks and solo coffees, I keep asking myself: I don’t want to be someone who’s always chasing. But I also don’t want to ignore the pulse that keeps pointing me toward something more.

Maybe this trip will renew me enough to keep building a version of that full, creative life in LA. Or maybe I’ll realize I need to be somewhere else entirely.

Either way, I’m paying attention.

Does any of this resonate with you? If you’ve been here, or are now on the other side—I’d love to hear about it.

Ciao for now,

Jess