Two Years Out, Three Moves In
When I opened Facebook this morning, the “On This Day” feature reminded me that I graduated from college two whole years ago. And boom — hello, reflection and nostalgia and longing.
On paper, my life after college has been impressive and exciting.
In reality, it’s been complicated.
Two years ago, I graduated from college and moved to Austin, TX. Last fall, I moved to Cambodia. Four months ago, I moved to India.
Most people that know me well would not describe me as “complacent.” I’m always thinking about my “next step” and obsessively planning my future. I’ve been like that since I was a child. Up until college, this was an easy impulse to act upon; things were laid out for me. All I had to do was choose what middle school to apply to (yes, we even apply to middle schools in New York City), prepare for (read: stress out about) high school applications, and apply to college. It was straightforward to plan in these highly structured environments.
And then I graduated from college and all that structure was gone.
I’ve heard over and over again that the skills required to succeed in a school environment are entirely different from the ones required to succeed in real life. In school, we are given instructions to follow and learn lessons before we are tested on them. In real life, there is way more ambiguity and choice. And life tests us before teaching us lessons.
I knew I wanted to work for a few years in between college and graduate school — so the world was mine for the taking for the next few years as I “figured it out,” right? Wrong. The world suddenly became really confusing.
As soon as my family and I drove away from Washington, DC in May 2015, I thought of Marina Keegan’s reflections about “The Opposite of Loneliness” —
“More than finding the right job or city or spouse — I’m scared of losing this web we’re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.”
I felt it. And I felt it slip away so quickly.
Navigating an unstructured life is a new skill I am learning to hone in on. In the process, I’ve felt pangs of loneliness and confusion stronger than I’ve ever felt before. And I wish people talked more about it with new college grads. Cliché commencement speech wisdom tells us to “follow our dreams” and to “make a difference in the world” (okay, cool, but how? And when? How long do I have to wait to live the future I’ve always dreamt of? And where are all these friends I’m supposed be making?! When is it okay to switch careers? And how do I do my taxes? HELP).
While I wish someone had told me the following things two years ago, I’m glad no one did. It’s been an adventure learning about myself and about what I want out of life; no advice list could ever replace the richness of the journey that’s always just beginning.
1. BRANCH OUT
When I moved to Austin two years ago, I knew close to no one. It was exciting to be able to craft a new identity. But I had major FOMO, thanks to all the posts I saw from friends that had stayed on the East Coast, especially in New York and DC, where most Georgetown’s new alumni end up.
The FOMO really hit on the Friday nights where I would find myself sitting alone on my couch in my one-bedroom apartment in downtown Austin, crying to my mom on the phone: “Everyone else has it so easy and I’m here all by myself. I think I want to move back to New York or DC.” And my mom, barring no sass, would remind me that I had chosen this job and this move to a new city — no one had forced me to do this.
But the more I spoke with my friends from college that had ended up in New York and DC, I found that they were undergoing major shifts, too. Social media doesn’t always tell the truth — people weren’t hanging out with each other as much as they seemed to be, most people didn’t love their jobs, and people were finding it challenging to make new friends. Life required a new type of effort and comfort with ambiguity, no matter where we ended up.
Recently, I read a book called The Defining Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter and How to Make the Most of Them Now that talks about the concept of “weak ties” and about why the idea of an “urban tribe” is overrated.
“Too many twentysomethings huddle together with like-minded peers. This limits who we know, what we know, where we work, and who we date. While the urban tribe helps us survive, it may not help us thrive.”
Making connections with people we don’t know well or who are not like us is crucial to our own growth. I often think that if I had stayed on the East Coast and not moved to a city so different from everything I was used to for the first 21 years of my life, I would have learned this lesson much later.
2. CHOOSE YOUR CHANGES (BECAUSE YOU CAN)
Senior year of college, I thought I would have to stay in my first job for at least two years because there was just no other way to “do life.” While going through recruiting with various companies, I thought I had to “get it right” and make a choice that would define the rest of my life.
I look back at those thoughts and chuckle — if someone had told me that in two years, I would be living in India working in the social impact and international development space (or writing a post called “two years out, three moves in”), I would have said, “That’s not happening. That’s impossible.”
I’m now living the dream I always wanted to be living in my early 20s but I got here in a pretty roundabout way.
Facts: I applied to Facebook several times before I got an interview. When I interviewed for the job I ended up getting, I was first rejected before then being contacted by the recruiter 1.5 months later asking me if I was still interested in taking the offer. I applied to my current company three times, over the course of nine months, before I got an interview.
I always tell people that ask me for advice about these instances because my career after college has certainly been anything but linear. It’s been a series of choices and changes that I’ve been iterating upon. I’ve treated my life as I would the design of a new product — find what works, what doesn’t work, what sticks, what doesn’t stick, get feedback, reflect, make tough decisions. But I’ve kept in mind that I get to choose my next move whenever I want to choose it. Real life doesn’t come with set chapters or a manual; it’s up to me to shake things up.
And I definitely didn’t know that two years ago.
(Of course, it’s not quite as simple as that and, maybe, this makes me sound like “such a millennial.” We have many other things to take into account — student loans, family dependence, expectations from others, etc. But given whatever freedom you do have, know that your first job out of college doesn’t have to define the rest of your life (or even the next two years of your life)).
3. REMEMBER WHAT MAKES YOUR HEART SING
My first 2.5 months in Delhi were rough. I couldn’t figure out what was missing from my experience or what I was doing wrong but I just couldn’t recognize myself anymore.
I’ve always been really active and involved in the community, wherever I go. But when I came here, I felt mentally paralyzed. I would lie on my bed, exhausted after work, and just not want to move or interact with anyone. Perhaps, it was the sheer fact that this was my third move in less than two years and I was so burnt out by the energy it takes not only to physically move to a new place but also to meet new people and make it your own home. Delhi is also very chaotic and overwhelming so I’m not surprised that my instinctual reaction was to shut down. But that’s just not the Omika that I know.
I had been meaning to get involved in the local dance/yoga/movement community since I arrived but I just didn’t have the energy or bandwidth to do so in the beginning. I have been dancing since I was a baby and dance has always been a huge part of my life. Most people know that I’ve become very invested in yoga over the past few years but most people don’t know that my initial fascination with the body and movement that led me to explore yoga comes from years of dance training.
In April, I finally made my way to a local dance school here to learn both about training and teaching opportunities. After just one week doing some teaching demos and taking classes, I didn’t just feel happy again; I felt complete. I felt like myself. My mom told me, over the phone, that my voice sounded different. I sounded peppy and excited, like the daughter she has always known. I recognized myself again and she did too.
I’ve always been very aware of the things that make me complete but it wasn’t until I was completely stripped of them that I really have begun to appreciate them more. Living abroad teaches me that I need very little to be happy and complete. But I do always need to dance. It makes my heart sing like nothing else does.
So while I figure out the next two years and my next three moves (don’t worry, Mom and Dad, I won’t move three times in a two year time span again), I’ll keep dancing.
