Lompoc

The last 15 years of my life have been the absolute best, most challenging, formative years of my life.

Immediately after my undergraduate studies, I ran off to Los Angeles after my college boyfriend broke my heart. I left behind family and virtually no friends, as I did not cultivate relationships with people from high school. While in college, I struggled with my own demons, making it hard for others to want to be around me, so leaving the few lasting friendships did not faze me. 

So, at 22 years old, I ran off to Los Angeles to escape myself, masking it as self-discovery and reinvention. I started my new life teaching 8^thgrade English at a low-income, high needs, and ‘rough’ school in the heart of urban LA. I did not know of gangs, LA traffic, lip fillers, butt implants, which hipster neighborhood to live in, the meaning of cholo, or how to get into the coolest clubs. Nonetheless, I leapt head first into a life where ignorance was bliss, thus allowing me to thrive. Precisely because I had zero sense of failure, it never crossed my mind that I could actually fail at something. 

My love affair with Los Angeles blossomed virtually instantaneously, and I was smitten with this city. From the late night burrito and taco spots, to the laid back nature in which teachers dressed for work, to the upper echelon of bougie Beverly Hills, fancy restaurants, bars, and clubs, to the beach, to the gritty and tough environment of my teaching jobs—I loved this city and she loved me. 

Los Angeles embraced my incessant desire to express myself through clothes, hair, and tattoos. Various administrators turned a blind eye to my self-generated, edgy, and contemporary English Language Arts curriculum, thus allowing me to find my place as an educator and flourish. Even my no nonsense and unapologetic approach to teaching my fitness classes was welcomed [in most cases, haha]. Los Angeles just seemed to get me and LA looked damn good on me.

Oh, to live and die in LA.

Los Angeles is my home. In fact, if you were to ask me where I were from, I would respond, “El Lay”. Yes, I was born and raised in New York, but Los Angeles is where I grew into the woman I am today. Los Angeles has shaped my belief systems, passions, politics, and so much more. 

I am a proud Angeleno through and through.

Life in LA is not just good for me. It is great.

And so, it seems only fitting that after the best years of my life, having established myself in working for Equinox, one of the most prestigious fitness brands in the world and recently getting promoted at the school district, it is time for a new adventure…Right?!

Recently, while on Spring Break in Los Olivos with my husband Greg, we were presented with an opportunity to relocate to our Happy Place. A place that we dreamed of living ‘one day’ without ever really thinking that ‘one day’ would actually come [well before retirement that is]. 

After a beautiful love affair with Los Angeles, my husband and I will be moving to Santa Ynez Valley, California’s Central Coast to begin a new life and adventure in Los Olivos. 

Before I get into the details, I do want to share something with you all. 

When I first met my husband nearly six years ago, I told him I dreamed of moving to this ‘small town called Los Olivos’. Greg scoffed at the idea of me—ME, living in a small town. But after our first trip up to the area together in June 2014, Greg said to me, “Now, I get it.” It was then our little dream started to incubate. We toiled with moving. We chuckled while drinking wine in the tasting rooms and talked about how “One day…” while telling everyone we met during our trips to the Santa Ynez Valley that ‘we want to move up here’. I mean, come on. How many tourists say shit like that?! Ahem, like everyone, but how many actually do it?!

Then, in November of 2018, I made a vision board. Upon arriving home from another blissful trip to our “Happy Place”, I started gathering images evoking positive feelings associated with the life I wanted to live…The life I wanted—no, was going to manifest. These images were simple, capturing rolling hills, wine, horses, books, some athletic clothing, and a simple life. Quite the departure from the life I lived in LA. I looked at my vision board and if I am being honest, I didn’t think much other than it was pretty badass. Before landing on my closet door, my vision board remained propped up on our bar in the living room for a few weeks. 

Never in my wildest dreams did I think, could I think, or would I think that in a matter of months, literally every single thing on that vision board would leap off the page to become my new reality. Talk about The Law of Attraction, that’s for sure!

Greg will soon, and by soon, I mean very soon, transition back into managing a restaurant as the General Manager for The Bear and Star at The Fess Parker Inn. In addition, I am eager to report that I too have gotten a new job at Lompoc Unified School District (LUSD). Talk about mind meld—from LAUSD to LUSD that sure is going to take some getting used to on my part. I am thrilled to share with you all that next year, I assume my new position at Lompoc High School teaching 9^thgrade English and English Language Development (ELD). Now, as someone who has just spent the past year in an out-of-classroom district role, the terminology used to reference this transition is, ‘I am going back to the classroom’. And I need to tell you, I never liked that phrasing and I like it even less now seeing it ascribed to my venture moving out of LAUSD. The term ‘going back to the classroom’ implies some sort of demotion, or assumption that the role of a classroom teacher is somehow lesser than working in an out-of-classroom capacity. Simply, that is not true. I am not going ‘back’ anywhere. I am returning to a place where I am needed most. A place where 150 bodies walk through my door every day and it is my job to empower, inspire, and educate them. A place where what I say and how I do my work can potentially alter the trajectory of someone’s life for the better. A place where hormones, out bursts, pimples, and boyfriend/girlfriend drama are commonplace. A place, a place…

A place where I feel whole, overwhelmed with purpose doing the best work in the world. A place where I know what I say may not resonate in the immediate, but will reverberate years down the line. A place where I learn everyday through the eyes of a child. A place where I am the best I can be. 

That place is THE CLASSROOM. 

So, when I say I am ‘going back to the classroom,’ I am going home. I am going to MY PLACE where I shine brightest by helping others tap into their greatest potential. 

Now, that is not without saying that I am not scared to take this step, because I am. I am terrified to leave the only meaningful friendships I have ever known. To relinquish my fitness classes that I worked so hard for, earning my place on a schedule, and then building a following. To leave a well-respected district position with LA Unified where I thrived and looked at my career in education and said, “It’s all up from here!”

And trust me, I saw it all. In two years I would be an Assistant Principal…then a Principal, then…

Nevertheless, sometimes things change. Sometimes plans, ambitions, and dreams evolve and that is OK! For the last seven years, I have taught group fitness, six of those years for Equinox. The grind and hustle of working, maintaining, and remaining at the top of my craft in two career fields has taken everything I had deep within me. Also, it has taken my time from self-care, social engagements, and didn’t leave anything left for passion projects like this blog, my motivational speaking, my new podcast Leveling Up with Arielle Miller, and so much more. My entire 30’s have been dominated by work, work, work, and all I have to show for the ferocious commitment to my careers are some Instagram followers, extreme fatigue, low self-esteem from the fitness industry since I will never ‘look good enough’, and a wholllleee lotta leggings.

Seriously though, we celebrate this no-days off mentality, this constant “I’ll sleep when I am dead’ mentality but that’s just it—you’ll be dead, so you won’t be able to reap the joys of your constant laboring. There must be—no, there IS more to life than zipping through life at a million miles an hour. How can I, rather, how can one, enjoy this life if you are too busy to even experience it? For me, this move is about re-establishing balance and boundaries in my life. This move is about giving myself the permission I would have never been able to give myself living in Los Angeles. Permission to begin again, to step back, to give up classes, to work out more purposefully, and to simply DO ME. 

Wow, do me. Now, that frightens me. How does one go from having seemingly ‘no time’, to now being able to have the accessibility to pursue matters of the heart and soul simply because one can as opposed to IFthey can…?

Sure, some may call me brave for willingly catapulting myself into the unknown, but remember this:

People are only brave because they are scared.

Moving is scary. Leaving a fitness community, gym, job, colleagues, routine, and so much more that is familiar, safe, and comfortable is a lot for me to grapple with and I would be lying if I told you that I was so strong that I handled this in stride. I have cried every day since Greg and I said “YES” to us and a new life. And I haven’t cried for any other reason than lamenting leaving whilst being SO excited to hit the reset button on my life. Also, in some respects I am mourning a figurative death as I leave my beloved El Lay and all that I have come to love in all its familiarity. 

In deciding to leave LA, I feel like I am letting so many people down. I feel like I am turning my back on those who need me, even though we damn well know I am doing nothing of the sort. It just feels like I am choosing to throw away a life I have worked tirelessly to build, even though I know that is not true and it’s only my silly perception. However, in reflecting with my husband…Should we move? Should we not move?

What if it doesn’t work out?

We kept asking ourselves,What if it DOES work out?

For the both of us, the resounding thought was, what if in 20 years from now we looked over at one another and wondered what could have been…What if we said aloud, “Remember when we could have taken a grand adventure, but we were too scared to…” 

What ifwe don’t take this chance?

Shoulda

Coulda 

Woulda

Truth be told, I am more terrified to take this giant step then words can convey. But you know what’s even more scary? Not taking this leap of faith and living a life of what if, and wondering. Frankly, I believe the greatest tragedy of one’s life, is to not live life to its fullest capability because of fear. That is not living. That is always playing it safe and never growing or learning because one was too afraid to leave their comfort zone. 

I really cannot think of anything more tragic than wishing, wanting, hoping, and never DOING. Life is meant to be lived by taking risks. This risk needs to be taken.

My friends will always be there.

Work will always be there.

Fitness will always be there.

But this chance to jump head first into the abyss of the unfamiliar, most certainly won’t.

Fifteen years ago I ran away to LA to flee a life I did not have. Now, while this move looks as if I am walking away from so much, I do not see this as walking away from anything, so much as running towards something.