LA Grudge


When I left Los Angeles nearly three years ago, I had an extreme hatred of the city. My circumstances at the time contributed to my “never” wanting to come back. Last week, I spent 3.5 days in my old city, saw several friends, and was able to let go of the grudge that I had had for almost three years. Not only that, I was able to reclaim my value as a person.

My phone was constantly going off with texts and phone calls from friends asking when they could see me. I spent a lot of time in the car cruising the streets of my old neighborhood, and really, my old city. It was cool to see what had changed and what had stayed the same. I rarely had to use my navigation to get around. Everything came back as if I had never left sans the anger, sadness, and rage.

About 15 people took the time to either come hang out with me or made plans to get together. That’s a lot of friends to see in such a short amount of time and the ones who couldn’t make it planned to come visit me in Denver.

After months of feeling like I didn’t matter to people, like I was just another face in the crowd, being in California with people who care about me, especially in LA where I had once held such a grudge made me feel completely valued as a person. I didn’t have to put up a front in front of my friends or act like someone that I wasn’t. All they knew me as was the loud, boisterous, “don’t give a fuck” Rachael that I had always been. The last few months of trying to fit in with my ex’s friends took that attitude away from me and I really got it back during my time in LA. I felt like I mattered to people again. I felt like I could be myself and not be sorry for it. I felt like my being involved in the lives of MY friends actually made a positive difference to them. For this, I am forever grateful.

I finally feel at peace with my old home. I finally feel like I can come back and enjoy my time, as well reminisce on the lessons that living there taught me during my youth. I feel like I can value myself as an awesome influence in my social circles without caring about what those who really don’t matter think of me. I feel like I can flip the bird to people who try to hate on me and genuinely walk away without apology. I know who my friends are. I know where my home once was and where it is now.

After nearly three years, I can finally end this chapter and move on.



About Rachael Moyte

Food. Art. Music. Pillow forts. Hula hoops. Beanies. Bass (the instrument, not the fish). Denver. Traveling. Friends. Butterflies. METAL! Comfy pants. Books. Books. Books. Writing. Beer. Walking. Sunshine. Rain. Sugar skulls. Tattoos. Lots more.

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