How a wishbone led me back to LA - Part 1

Jan 17, 2023

Around Christmas time in 2022 I decided to call off my engagement and move back home to Los Angeles from Arizona.  To the outside world it looked very sudden, and came as quite a shock.  Heck, we’d only just bought the house and gotten engaged in May, it shocked me too.

As many do, I only shared the highlight reels of our relationship online.  My partner was not really into social media, so I only shared the occasional picture of us, but when I did, it was all big smiles, fun adventures, and good times.  

To the world, I was living the dream. I had the house, the fiance, the dog… 

But the truth was, there was a still small voice inside of my head that was asking me …“Are you sure this is it? Is this what you really want? Chandler, Arizona?!”  

But, being the eternal optimist that I am, I
found things to love about the desert. 

I told myself I needed the
slower energy.  I told myself I loved the beautiful sunsets.  And of course, I did love our house.  It was big, bright, and had these luxury tall ceilings, and in a peaceful quiet neighborhood.  I even converted our 3rd car garage into a studio, but something was missing.  

I remember justifying leaving California for Arizona because of how much money we would save.  But what I forgot to take into account was

Being born and raised in Los Angeles (North Hollywood to be exact), I assumed living with buzzing creative energy all around me was normal.  Since it was the “status quo” for me, I can’t even say that I felt it.  I just thought that was life! Even when I lived in Nashville from 2015-2020, there was a similar creative energy in the air that made living there exciting.

Now of course when I look back on my decision to move to Arizona, I think to myself, “Well, no shit you missed the energy of these big cities, you moved to Chandler, Arizona for crying out loud!” But honestly, I wasn’t thinking about energy at all when we decided to move there. 

I was thinking…

Wow, we’re going to get so much bang for our buck here!”  

“My partner loves it here…”  

“I work remotely so I can work from anywhere…” 

“The house is huge - I’ll build a big ass studio and never leave the house anyway, it doesn’t matter where I live…”   

But it did matter. 

As soon as we moved in I started to feel my energy shift, my creativity plummet, and I found myself longing for the ocean. 

Another thing that didn’t help was, my partner was allergic to my cats, so I had to keep them in the converted garage studio, which seemed like a good idea at first, but after just 1 month I could sense the space was too small, and to be honest, there’s nothing inspiring about trying to write or create in a room with 2 cats and poor air circulation. It was quickly going from “Boomfox Studios” to “Catbox Studios” - and I wasn’t about that life. (neither were the cats).


On top of the location not being ideal for me, my partner and I were starting to drift apart.  The truth was, while we loved each other dearly, we wanted different things. I mean drastically different things. 

I wanted to speed up, he wanted to slow down.  

I want to continue scaling my business (and build another business), and he wanted to retire. 

I want to see the world, and he wanted to stay in Arizona.  

I’m extremely
growth focused and artistic, and he’s very content and “happy with how things are”.  

While we both knew these things about each other, I think we thought our love was enough to make it work. 

About a week before Christmas, we got into another fight - which without going into great detail is,
he doesn’t like when I talk about work.  And since my work is my personal brand, which is my art, it’s really heartbreaking to not be able to talk about that with my partner.  

If I’m told I can’t talk about my work it’s like saying I can’t talk about my life, or my passion.  Shit, even my hobbies
are my work.  I read, I study, I research, I write, I create! It’s all my ART, what else is there to talk about?  I found myself feeling like I needed a “fake” hobby just to make conversation.

The truth is, I’ve worked my ass off to be able to make my art my work.  To be able to get paid to do what I love.  And I felt like I was being punished for it.

This wasn’t the first time we had this fight.  In fact, it was starting to happen more and more frequently.  I’d get excited about a new project, start talking about it, and he’d shut down because he just wasn’t interested. 

For the record, he is a wonderful, kind man, and has a great heart.  He’s just not an artist, (nor did he appreciate creativity or the arts). So he just didn’t
get it.  

The fight began to escalate to the point that we both were steaming at the ears.  I finally told him I needed some space and would be going to LA to visit a friend for a few days.

While driving down the 10 freeway, tears rolling down my cheeks, I started to pray…

“God, I don’t know what to do. My heart is telling me I’m supposed to leave this relationship, but I can’t do that. I love him, and he loves me so much.  He’s a great guy.  We just got engaged. We just bought a house.  This feeling makes
no sense.  Am I really supposed to leave?  I just want my partner to see me, to appreciate me, to listen to me… Please give me a sign!”  

Then I realized something… 

There had been a still small voice questioning this relationship from the very beginning. A small voice that said, 

- and I ignored it. 

So I thought for a second, wait, was THAT Spirit guiding me all along?  

Had I been IGNORING God? 

And if so, why would he help me now?! 

So I took a second, and I reframed my approach.  

“God… I know I haven’t listened to you in the past, but I’m asking you to please guide me. Please tell me what to do.  And no matter what it is, I’ll do it, I promise.  I surrender.” 

I waited a few seconds, then I heard…

“You already know what you need to do…” 

The idea of leaving was so unfathomable to me, so I said… 

“Ok God, here’s the deal. I’m pretty sure you’re telling me to leave, but I reallllly need to know that this is coming from you, and that I’m not crazy. I need a sign.  Like an on the nose, can’t be mistaken for anything, SIGN. If I’m supposed to leave this relationship,
show me a wishbone while I’m in LA”.  

A wishbone?!  Where did I even come up with that?  

Well firstly, it seemed random enough.  I wasn’t going to eat turkey anywhere, and you don’t see wishbones just floating around, so I knew that if I saw it, it would be a no brainer.  I also thought God could use a good challenge.  

So as I’m driving I start thinking… 

What would I even do if I left?  

Where would I go?  I moved to Arizona for him, I certainly wouldn’t stay there if we broke up.

Now, keep in mind, while I was driving to LA to see a friend, I was not even
considering moving there.  I had done LA already.  I was born there. There was too much history, too many triggers, too much traffic. 

Then, all of a sudden, as I pass over Hollywood, right where the 101 and the 134 split, I get this flood of energy all throughout my body - right as I drive through Studio City.

Now, when I say flood of energy, I’m talking chills.

I’m talking a surge of electricity coursing through my veins.

I’m talking, tears welling up in my eyes and a fire in my stomach that feels like I’m the top of a roller coaster about to drop down several stories.

Yeah, that kind of flood.  

“God, what the heck is happening?! What is this feeling?!” 

And I heard “

And I realized, suddenly, I could
feel the creative energy of the city.  

The creative energy I had taken advantage of for so long, and never even noticed when I lived here was now smacking me in the face .

It was at that moment I felt my pulse come back, and I realized I was being called to
come back home.  

“God, this makes no sense!! Move back to LA?”

But then I remembered my promise to

“Ok, show me the dang wishbone and I’ll think about it”...I muttered begrudgingly.

I couldn’t see God, but I imagined him smirking and rubbing his hands together, and saying
hold my beer…

I arrived at my friends house later that night, made no mention of the wishbone (or that fact that I had a full blown convo with God in my car) and we chatted for a couple hours catching up on life, then I went to sleep.

I ended up staying in LA for a couple days. I went to the beach, checked out a comedy show in Hollywood, ate amazing food, and just soaked up the city with fresh eyes.  

I hadn’t lived in LA since 2015, and so much had changed, but most importantly, I had changed.  

I didn’t feel triggered by my past anymore.

I didn’t feel jaded about it anymore.  

I wasn’t a drunk hot mess anymore.

My consciousness had changed.

LA was magical all of a sudden.

We decided to meet another friend for sushi for my last night in town, and I still hadn’t seen the wishbone yet.  

“Clock is ticking God…am I supposed to do this or what?” 

We had some time to kill before dinner, so we decided to go into a bookstore called “The Psychic Eye” which I hadn’t been to in years.  


As we wandered around the shop, I grazed the aisles, dragging my fingers across different crystals and books, inhaling the scent of sweetgrass and sage in the air, and listening to the sounds of Tibetan drumming and chanting over the crackling speakers…

“I fucking love LA” I thought to myself. 

I couldn’t find a metaphysical bookstore in Arizona that was half as cool as this (with the exception of Sedona, but that was 2 hours away from where I lived). 

Then I realized, “If I’m going to see a wishbone, it’d be here…” 

Still, after meandering for a good 20 minutes, I saw nothing. 

(Also, I still hadn’t told my friend about the wishbone at this point, that was between me and God and I didn’t want to jinx it or put any projections from others onto it.)  

As we walked out of the store, we were about to get into the car and my friend said, “Look, they have a sister store next door, let’s go in there!”  

This store was smaller, and not nearly as vibey and cool as the other one, but we still had a few minutes to kill so I followed her inside. 

We checked out a few books and random nick nacks inside, and then, just as we were about to walk out, there it was.  

A wishbone in a glass case.

Just staring me in the face.  

It couldn’t have been any more clear unless it was served to me on a silver platter. 

I turned to my friend and I said “Holy shit, is that a wishbone?!” 

(I couldn’t believe it, I needed someone else to confirm.) 

She walked over and shuddered, and said “yeah, I can’t stand this Santeria shit, creeps me out…” 

“Gurrrrrl, have I got a story for you…” I said with my eyes still bulging out of my head.

That’s when I told her everything.  

I told her that I had asked God for a sign, a sign so on the nose that it couldn’t be denied.  

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to leave him?!”  

“How can I not?!” I said. 

I mean, you can’t ask God for a sign, have him
show off like that, and then ignore it.  

That’s just being an
askhole (someone who asks for help then doesn’t listen)


At this point, I knew what I had to do.  

I had to leave this relationship.  

Not just because I saw a wishbone, that was just the confirmation I needed to help me get through the complexity of making such a hard decision.

I had to leave this relationship because…

And I realized, I didn’t come this far to only come this far, and I wasn’t about to slow down now.  

I packed my things the next day and drove back to Arizona, gave the ring back, and started to plan my next steps.

It was 2 days before Christmas.  

This was going to be interesting…