Rebelize Change

Eight months ago, I left Miami and moved to Los Angeles. I expected change – new city, new pace, new vibe. But what I didn’t fully expect was just how bumpy the road would be.

Time is weird now. You wouldn’t think a three-hour time difference would throw your whole system off, but it did. I was waking up at 5 a.m., exhausted by 7 p.m., and struggling to coordinate with everyone back home. Group chats, Zoom calls, even family FaceTimes became exercises in timezone translation.

The weather was a welcome change, but still an adjustment. I’m going to be honest here: I hated everything about Miami weather. The humidity, the constant sweat, the suffocating heat, it was exhausting. L.A., on the other hand, has the kind of weather I didn’t even know I was allowed to dream about. Dry, breezy, sunny without being oppressive. That said, it took a minute to adjust. I learned quickly to dress in layers and always carry a jacket, even in the summer. But truly, I wouldn’t trade L.A. weather for anything.

Oh, and parking? A nightmare. No one can prepare you for Los Angeles parking. Free parking doesn’t exist. I’ve done more mental gymnastics trying to decode signage and avoid tickets!

When I arrived in L.A., I actually had a job lined up. I was in the middle of onboarding, background checks, paperwork, fingerprinting… and then my fingerprints were rejected. Twice. Apparently they were too faint, so I had to start the whole process over. That delay cost me weeks of work. By the time I was cleared, the position had been filled.

They gave me a fill-in role in the meantime, which I really tried to make work but it wasn’t the right fit. So I took a leap and started job hunting again. I applied for a handful of positions, hoping something would feel right.

And then I found it. The perfect job. Now I work in a role I love, with the most supportive boss and coworkers. I’m genuinely happy at work every day, and after everything that happened to get here, I don’t take that for granted.

Still, the hardest part has been missing my people. My family, my close friends, my little spots in Miami that felt like mine. Here, everything has to be found or built from scratch. Some days, that feels exciting. Other days, it just feels hard.

But slowly, I’m settling in. I’ve started to find my rhythm here – new routines, new favorite cafés, new friendships. I’ve even found a place to live that feels just right, one that feels like mine. After months of uncertainty, I can finally say: I’m ready to call L.A. home.

Moving isn’t just about packing up and changing your zip code. It’s about letting go, holding on, adapting, and growing even when things don’t go according to plan. Especially then.