After sending countless resumes and interviewing for various public relations agencies all over New York City (NYC), I waited in agony, pacing around my room hoping for a response. I checked my email every few minutes to see if potential agencies responded to my repeated request to have an intern join them in the summer. Day one: no response. Day two: nothing. Day three: still nothing. After a week went by with no news, I planned on forgetting about the entire internship-hunting process. And let me tell you, it’s often a very difficult process to endure.<\/p>\n
While recounting the labors and events of the day with my mom over the phone, I received a notification from my email account. At first I paid no attention, assuming it was most likely an advertisement from a clothing store, but after a few hours went by, I decided to check it. At the very bottom, I noticed a message with the subject line ” summer internship.” My heart pounding, I moved my fingers across the screen as fast as humanly possible. As I opened the email, I read each line two or three times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. A public relations firm in NYC wanted me to work for them during the summer. To say I was elated would be a vast understatement. I had less than 24 hours to accept the position, so I quickly responded and accepted the job. My future internship supervisor said, “See you in the summer.”<\/p>\n
These five words left me feeling excited, joyful, fearful and anxious. Let’s just say I have a lot of planning to do.<\/p>\n
This brings me to a more important aspect regarding the overall subject of my internship: the actual move to NYC and my plans after graduation.<\/p>\n
After my internship is completed, I plan to live in the city to find a permanent job in the communications industry. I’ve sought advice from numerous blogs, watched Gossip Girl (I’m not afraid to admit that) and read lists about the 10 or so things I must know before moving to NYC (who doesn’t love a good list). Some people have wished me well, others called me crazy and a few naysayers told me I can’t survive in NYC. But ever since I was a teenager, I have wanted to move away from “southern comfort,” as I like to call it. I often feel like I’m living in a bubble, mingling with the same people since childhood and experiencing the same mundane things every time I’m home on break. Don’t get me wrong. I love a glass of sugary iced tea, but I won’t let the comforts of home prevent me from following my dreams. People ask me why I would want to leave my family and move to a “concrete jungle” where I only know a handful of individuals. Why sacrifice comfort and leave everything and everyone behind?<\/p>\n
Here is the simple answer: I’m young, I want to succeed and I have the opportunity to prove myself in the center of industry. While I may regret living and working in NYC, there’s an overwhelming possibility I might end up discovering who I am and whose I am. Why not take that risk?<\/p>\n
So what if my journey in NYC is nothing short of horrible? I’ll never know the truth until I experience it first hand. Take a risk. You never know until you try.<\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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