Westward Bound

How do I start this?

Well, I guess one way to put it is, @NewYorkRebel and DaveCastleNYC.com may be available names in the near future?

I think I'm done with New York.

No. I know I'm done with New York.

Perhaps I should backtrack a bit and explain how I arrived at that conclusion.

In 50 days, I'll be 31 years old. And that's fucked up.

It's fucked up because I wasted my teens and 20s.

It's fucked up because the day I turned 30, I vowed to myself I wouldn't waste this decade like I wasted the previous one.

It's fucked up because roughly a year later, I haven't done anything to suggest that's the case.

One year down. Nine more to go.

Sure, I took some fashion risks this past year, for the first time ever - dying my hair blonde for the summer and more recently, brown for the fall (and beyond). That was fun.

But I didn't meet anyone special. I didn't grow professionally. I didn't build on my career. At this point, it's arguable I even have a career.

Freelancing is far from glamorous, and there's a shit ton of articles online explaining why that is, so I won't bore you with those details.

But I do want to dive deeper into who I am as a person.

In a lot of ways, the Instagram handle of "Rebel" has always been somewhat ironic and a bit tongue-in-cheek.

I'm not a risk taker. Far from it, actually. A rebel is what I aspire to be. Not who I am.

I've always played it safe. Played it smart. Never took chances. Was a late bloomer through essentially every milestone of my life.

I can't explain the reason for my emotional immaturity. I can't explain why my jouney to adulthood has been stunted. But as much as it sucks, it's also been a blessing in disguise.

I don't have a wife, or even a long term girlfriend. No desire to have children. The latter of which I'm absolutely confident I'll never change my position on.

I don't have a valuable, meaningful career with a 401k and benefits that I'm tied to.

Essentially, I'm a free agent. A soon to be 31-year-old free agent.

And while some people might laugh or cringe at that - it's been unbelievably freeing.

I can do what I want, and go as I please. I'm a free man with almost zero responsibilities.

While some might see that as the markings of a man failing to succeed, I look at is as a man still very much in position to chase his dreams.

As much as I love photography - writing, acting, and film in general have always been my true loves. And what better place to try to pursue that avenue than Cali?

Hell, even if I do continue shooting, what better canvas than the varied state of California? Beaches, cities, redwood forests, mountains, deserts, vineyards. It's got it all.

I have a hate for winter so deep I feel it on a submolecular level. Where better to live than a place with welcoming, moderate temperatures all year round?

I know the risks involved with just packing my shit in a car and driving away. I've heard it all. In the few times I've tossed around this idea previously, I'm always told to be "realistic." I know those close to me mean well when they try to give me a heads up, but realism doesn't quite fit into my reality.

There is nothing for me here. Nothing holding me back. Nothing stopping me from taking the plunge.

I've given myself two years to get my shit together, but hopefully, it'll happen sooner, because I'm not getting any younger.

Regardless, I'm currently feeling an overwhelming sense of calm that this is the right decision. That finally, the restraints I've put on myself all these years have come off. That my fears of the unknown are finally stomped out for good. Like some sort of combination inside me that's finally been unlocked.

It took nearly 31 years to arrive at this conclusion, but for a late bloomer, I'm right on time.

Maybe I'll earn my rebel stripes after all.