hello to all that

a secret I've been holding onto for months

On Monday, I spoke on my friend

Mary Skinner

’s lovely podcast. To anyone who listened all the way through the hour and fifty minute conversation, you might have caught an Easter Egg.

I share the news I’ve been holding onto months!

Go listen to the podcast!!!! (I spill a lot of beans about how I got started freelance writing and give my most practical writing tips.)

But I’ll also just tell you the Easter Egg because I can’t hold the secret any longer.

Darlings, I’m moving back to New York City!

me at 19 living in a windowless closet as a pr intern in tribeca

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Eeeee!!!!

(Cut to montage of me shrieking/crying/jumping in jubilation/weeping in sadness/freezing with anxiety/looking longingly at our flat renovation that isn’t completed yet/opening Streeteasy/closing Streeteasy/ultimately needing to put phone down and go touch some rocks on a long walk in the Scottish countryside).

How do I feel about the move?

Well, I am having FEEELINGS!

Which is why it took me so long to write this newsletter, because I’m wading through all of these lovely emotions.

But what I can tell you is that overall, I’m excited.

To be closer to my family, to see my lifelong friends regularly, to see how my talent agency About Town and writing career can grow in a city that is like fertilizer to entrepreneurship.

I’m of course very sad to leave the gorgeous life that has bloomed around me in Scotland.

Our lovely flat (don’t worry we aren’t selling it!) that I’ve poured blood, sweat, and tears into (if you know a friend who wants to rent it, send me an email!)

The wonderful community of creatives I’ve met in Edinburgh. The stories I still want to tell and the places in the Highlands and Islands I still want to see.

But as with any ending, I look to the advice my grandmother gave:

Leave the party while you’re still having fun

I can promise you that I’m absolutely leaving the party in Scotland when I’m still having fun.

I’ve only just started to reach peak fun. I can actually see around the corner of all the fun that would have happened if I could just stay a tiny bit longer. And control the timing. To move exactly when I wanted to.

But as I’ve written before. You have to trust the timing of your life.

Regardless if it’s a tiny bit earlier or a tiny bit later than what you would have wanted.

It’s divine timing. It’s exactly when you needed it.

And you can always make the decision right.

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For what it’s worth, intuition tells me that my life will always be between the US and Europe.

Gustavo’s family lives in Madrid, we have the flat in Edinburgh, and I will keep representing the Scottish and British talent on the About Town roster. I know that my world will always be between the two continents and maybe in ways I can’t even dream up yet.

I actually think a lot of people have thought I’ve been living in New York all this time—so if that’s you, ignore this newsletter. I’d like to be geographically ambiguous all my life!

Maybe the future holds me coordinating trips for American brands and influencers to gorgeous castles in the Highlands, hosting writing retreats in the Scottish countryside, helping UK-based brands open stores in New York City, or something else entirely. I’m not sure exactly what it will look like but I’m excited to help be connective tissue between the places I love so dearly.

But anyways, I digress.

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I am excited about the move because I am choosing to be excited.

Simply put, I have learned from my mistakes.

To put it politely, I did NOT handle our move from Spain to Scotland well. I was not excited.

I did not go lightly and move with joy.

No, I went begrudgingly and brought every single thing I owned with me as if my life in Spain could be copy-and-pasted into Scotland. (Reader, it could not be).

The resulting aftermath—which involved painstakingly selling every single piece of furniture I brought because it didn’t fit in our flat nor match the vibe of Scotland—was a lesson.

Go lightly.

So, I am going lightly. I am going with joy. And I am trusting in the divine timing of my life.

That’s not to say, I’m not nervous. Of course, I have my fears!

What is it like to be a writer and entrepreneur in New York City? (I’ve never done it before.)

Will I be able to hold onto myself? (When I lived in New York before I burnt myself out trying to do too much.)

Am I going to fall into old patterns? (I absolutely cannot sustain how I used to live.)

Not to be dramatic, but when I lived in New York City before, I was a completely different person.

I was working in finance, single, drinking, and running around trying to make everyone happy and be liked. I was living at a low vibration.

Now, I am much more clear on who I am and what matters to me.

I am moving back older, married, with my dream career in writing and building my creative agency, four years sober, with clarity on who my life-giving friends are, and what I want out of my life.

In that way, I’ll need to put some blinders on.

To hold onto myself.

I have to trust that I can do it and have the systems set up to do so—the loving support of my partner, the cheerleading of my best friends, more time with my family soon, and with much more clarity on how to take care of myself.

There is real clarity that comes from not drinking, eating wholly, moving regularly, and journaling daily. I am going to try to find my slower, more sustainable version of life in New York City.

I welcome all of your advice!

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this photo did numbers on tumblr when i was 19

New York City has always held the most magical quality.

When I was 19, I interned in Tribeca at a watch company called Shinola. My desk was right behind

Hilliary Bianca Salamanca

who I thought was the coolest person ever (and still do). I subletted a windowless closet with four male roommates, made infinitely better when a kind girl named Charlotte (now of Alice Mushrooms fame!) moved in.

I loved New York City immediately.

Growing up, I had always felt off from my peers but I couldn’t figure out why. Likely because I had ridiculous delusions about what my life was going to be like and maybe it was just a bit intense to discuss 20 year plans at a sleepover of twelve-year-olds.

My mom had thought I would find my people in college, but really I was a fish out of water through middle school, high school, and ultimately at university too—having one or two friends, but ultimately feeling deeply lonely.

But then came New York City.

It was the first place I had felt like a fish in water. All of the things that had made me too much in my hometown—intensity, ambition, insistence, perfectionism—equipped me to exist in the the biggest, brightest, most intense city in the world.

Me, at my mostest and in my maximum too muchness, was just enough to make do in New York City.

No, the place was not perfect, hardly so.

But things felt possible. I could see people who worked really hard and had good things happen to them. Input seemed to lead to output. Hard work was semi-rewarded.

And in that way, I felt like the world was at my fingertips.

I’m excited to be in the magical city again, surrounded by brilliant and generous people who are building their dreams. I have long believed a rising ride lifts all boats and I’m excited to see what this time holds for me and my family.

right before i moved out of nyc

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To be clear, I don’t have the specifics of the move yet. It will be sometime in June most likely and I’d like to live in UES or Cobble Hill or Brooklyn Heights (if you know anyone subletting or wanting to swap apartments with us in Edinburgh, PLEASE let me know!)

Everything else we will figure out as we go.

To some, this might be surprising, but in my heart, I think I always knew I would return.

Many people when they move out of New York City write their Joan Didion-inspired “Goodbye to All That” essay. I love reading them, but I didn’t write one.

Even four years ago, when I couldn’t imagine the incredibly specific and rare terms that might bring me back to the city, I knew not to rule out the possibility.

Maybe I always knew there was a second chapter waiting, so that I could rewrite my time in New York City.

So with that, I can only say one thing.

Hello to all that. Again.