I want to live in a world of grey.

It's 11:36am on a Tuesday. I've been at work for three hours now. In one hour I take my lunch break and work for three more hours. When 4 o'clock hits, I go home. That's it. I just go home.

When I woke up this morning I checked my nails to make sure the paint remained smooth like it was when I painted them the night before. This, by the way, is not normal. However,  my morning  routine remains the same in any situation.. Three cups of coffee, an over-easy egg on a bagel, english muffin or steel-cut oats. I let my three fury children out, then beg for them to come back inside and then I sit and reflect.

At the point where I decide to start getting ready, I mean taking the physical and cosmetic steps of getting ready for work, is where everything has changed for me. And that's really just the beginning.

The past seven years of my adult life were spent in restaurant kitchens. I was the girl with tattoos, hair hidden away in a bandanna, burn marks up and down her arms and a band-aid somewhere on my body.. I wasn't careless.. I actually cared a lot. I think I was just willing to take a risk in order to get the job done. 

If I knew I needed to put up food at that very moment that the entire range was filled with hot pans on full blast, I was willing to reach into the ripping blue and orange fire in order to retrieve the pan I needed in order to plate the food.

I worked all nights, weekends and holidays. Starting out at 21 years old, this schedule didn't matter to me. I was proud and willing to work any shift to prove myself. I missed out on many holidays, brunches, dinners and time with my family. But when you're young and you just worked a 12 hour shift with your friends in unimaginable conditions, all you want to do is have a beer (or three), go to sleep and do it again.

Being 27 years old now, I decided to leave my kitchen manager/charcutier job in Georgia and move across the country to beautiful California with the love of my life. 

Why?

Why not?! We decided to let go of fear and possible regrets and just do it. We drove for three days across the country with our three dogs in a Toyota Camry and arrived at a house we rented "sight-unseen" with nothing but an air mattress and suitcase. Thankfully the house was as beautiful in person as it looked in pictures. All of our belongings were shipped on a freight and arrived over a month later, half broken and half missing. I got a job as a butcher in Oakland and my love got a job welding in San Francisco. In our first month in California, we both quit our jobs.

We strive for a better life. We moved to California to better ourselves. 

We decided as a team to stay forever skyward.

We both didn't agree with our bosses. We both were tired. We both felt defeated. 

We aren't the type of people to quit. We stick it out! However, this time I reminded myself why we moved and how we got to where we are. Hard work. Sacrifice. Blood. Sweat. Tears. 

To move across the country to better ourselves, only to work for people who have their own ideas of self-respect and worth that aren't of ours, is just not worth it.

My love quit first, and a few weeks later I did too. At the time, it was terrifying. We were scared of so many unknowns. To think that we may have failed or made the wrong decision was tough. But there are some things I learned about myself and him.. When you're completely humbled and brought to your knees, you have two choices. You can give up and ask for someone to take the reigns for you and get you out of the mess you're in. Or you can shake it off, remember who you are and what you take personal pride in, and control your own destiny.

For me, I was at a point where I wanted to see, support and love the one family I have with me here. My fiance.

 Working over 60 hours a week for a jerk wasn't helping me. I took a week and really thought about what was important to me. Yes, my career has always been important to me. 

But as I took time to reflect on myself and the family I have, pursuing a life as a chef just didn't seem to fit. The hours would keep us on opposite schedules. Do I want to move to an unknown place and never see my family? No. Do I want to keep working for asshole chefs that think because I'm the only female in the kitchen, they can treat me like I'm their mom or girlfriend? 

Go away.

Do I want to be home in time to cook for my family, play with my dogs, clean my house, pick up on old hobbies, start new ones, make new friends and keep the ones I have? 

YES!

I decided not to get a cooking job. WHAT?!?! You heard me! 

Is this forever??? 

Nothing is forever. This is for right now. 

I used to live in the past and the future. That way of living is dead to me. I live in the present.

Most people have been encouraging but there are some that gave me a hard time. The people that gave me a hard time are stuck in black and white. 

I want to live in a world of grey.

Today I am happy. I woke up with painted nails and they make me feel pretty. My hair isn't in a tight bun on top of my head and I'm not wearing my grease-stained jeans with my t-shirts that smell like french fries. I'm wearing a blouse and am slowly learning to walk in heels and that alone feels painfully awesome.

When 4 o'clock hits, I leave to go home. It's that simple.  The sun is still out and I do yoga in my backyard while my dogs roll in the grass. My lover comes home and we eat a meal together that I cooked. I cook for a loving and kind man. That makes me smile.

I'll never stop cooking or writing recipes or dream about food. Food is my passion and it always will be. But you see, the best part about this big decision I made is that I'm learning I am a very passionate person about many different things. 

Not just one.