I haven’t thought about the night I crossed the border crying, from California to Arizona in quite a while. I made my grand entrance into this hella hot, dusty state in a rented U haul truck driven by my real estate agent. Initially I thought he must have really wanted my business since he agreed to relocate us for only the price of a plane ticket home. Now I feel it was my higher power’s way of giving me the thumbs up. I truly believe an indicator of making the right decision is when something is effortless. If I have to force it, I take that as a sign that something isn’t the right path for me. It almost seemed too easy as my agent had no problem renting my home out on a year-long lease (my decision in case I wimped out and decided to come home), and offered to drive me to Arizona. My family also had a place to stay for free, until I could get on my feet. Hmmmm…..
What I remember most about the long ride to Arizona was the feeling of gratitude that we’d left California at night. Being under the cover of darkness helped me stay incognito. I didn’t want anyone to notice the doubt and fear that had to clearly be written all over my face. If it wasn’t, the tears would have been a dead giveaway. I wondered if I were doing the right thing, especially for the right reasons. As a single mom, I was moving away from my support system to an entirely new state in which I had no job and knew all of one person. Kathy wasn’t even a close friend of mine. She’d sponsored me into a multi-level marketing program before moving to Arizona a few years back, and that was the extent of our relationship. Was I ready, or even strong enough to move away from my family? (I could have used a Life Coach, lol). Was I simply uprooting my children to run from the failed relationship that had just ended horribly? What if Kathy and I, or even worse our kids, didn’t get along and I had nowhere to stay? What if I didn’t get a job right away? There were a lot of unknown variables to consider. I must admit, up to that point I didn’t have a track record of making good decisions so I didn’t trust myself. The good news is that I had already realized that being a parent meant I needed to start making better decisions. With my dysfunctional background, looking to anyone I knew for advice didn’t sound like a good idea so I started purchasing self-help books. Sadly, there was no manual on mother-hood that explained which decisions would be the right ones, or which would scar my children for life. I looked!
Each year after Kathy moved away, she suggested I join her so we could work our network marking businesses together. She would mention how much she loved Arizona, especially the school districts. I always declined , simply because I didn’t like change. I couldn’t imagine EVER moving away from California. (funny that now I can’t imagine moving back!). After a few years my oldest son was facing junior high in an impoverished area. I finally gave in. While I was afraid I’d lose my boys to the streets of L.A. (and refused to allow them to become statistics), I was also finally emotionally ready for a change. Leaving my comfort zone and starting over was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. Sixteen years later, it turns out that crossing the border was the best decisions of my life!