Oh Sundays. Talk about a daze. I landed in Seattle at 10:00am after being in New York for five days. It was the perfect mix of work and play, but per usual, I felt like my time was short there. New York City is a special place. I almost moved there… almost.

After spending a few years in Seattle following college, I was craving something new. My job was meh and though I loved all my friends here, my life felt meh. I had best friends living in Manhattan that had made the move post college and I was destined to do so too. I casually decided this was the thing to do after only two visits. The first visit was when the idea got in my head. I felt that feeling NYC gives you – excitement and energy. The second was naturally when I went to job hunt.

So there I was, back in Seattle, listing furniture from my first solo apartment on Craigslist, coordinating with my current job a “relocation” and planning the best damn going away party. My friends from NYC and Chicago had decided they’d visit Seattle for the first time and help move my stuff. It was going to be the perfect exit.

Except a lot happened in the last few months leading up to my departure. I met someone. Completely unexpected and just like fate would have it – he came in and quickly all of my plans changed.

We originally met over the summer, one night out at a bar (go figure) after a long day of boating with friends. A mutual friend of ours introduced us. He was a Husky, I was a Coug. He was charming, I was disheveled in a fedora hat. Supposedly that night I asked for his number, which is completely out of character for me. Following that night, he would ask to hang out but I was hesitant as I was moving. October came and I get a notification on Facebook that him and a friend are going to the same music festival in California I was going to. Little did I know he had convinced his friend to go because I was going.

After that festival, I knew something was brewing. I decided to give in on the date he kept asking me on when we returned to Seattle, which happened to be the night before my birthday. From that night on to the day I was supposed to head to New York in November, we were together every day. I fell in love in less than a month, and when my friends arrived for my going away party, I had to tell them the news and have them meet this man who I was head over heels for.

At first they were upset, but after spending only a few hours with Trevor, they knew why I had decided to stay. We had the “just kidding” going away party and their visit here was simply the best. Trevor and I moved fast, and were living together within three months time. Three years later, we planned a trip to NYC, as Trevor had never been, and it was my birthday weekend. He got down on one knee during a carriage ride in Central Park, and we were married two years later in Seattle.

New York City is a special place… and every time I got back, I get the same feeling I did years ago when I made the decision to move. But I took a chance on life, and I am so glad I did :).

I picked up this poplin top while shopping with one of my NYC besties in Chelsea this last weekend. It’s light and crisp just like the weather was there this last week. I paired it with some edge – distressed jeans and my 2nd favorite pair of pumps, my Rockstuds, which were a gift for my 30th birthday from Trevor. You’ll meet him soon!

// cb ✌????

THE EDIT | Poplin Blouse | Black Distressed Denim | Rocksted Pumps | Crossbody Bag | Sunglasses | Watch