10 years ago, we moved to LA LA Land….& it nearly broke me.
We had a 2-year-old son, twins just a few months old, plus my 4-year-old UK business was starting to get traction. So, a relocation to Los Angeles, 5,437 miles away and an 8-hour time difference from my work and my support system—my parents, my business partner, my friends, my mother ship—made perfect sense. Well, no, it didn’t—it made absolutely no sense at all.
The move itself was chaos—a complete S*** show. With 3 kids and work to take care of, packing up was like coordinating a small corporate transaction. We were closing and consolidating furniture not only from London, but also from my husband’s old apartment in NY and a small place we had in LA. And, as with all moves, nothing went to plan. When we landed in LA, exhausted after a 10-hour flight with 3 kids under 3, we arrived at our new house only to find that none of the shipments had arrived. The house did have lovely balloons everywhere, so the kids were in heaven.
The next day, as Omar (aka husband) left for work—yep, the next day —I started to take stock of the task ahead. We needed to find childcare, doctors, schools/nurseries for 3 children. I started to work out the logistics of LA, and how to deal with the hours of driving, the in-and-out of cars with car seats, navigating pushchairs around streets with no pavements. I had been to LA a ton of times, but it’s different when you’re on vacation, or staying with family—and without kids.
I think the biggest shock was how spread-out the city is and how you can easy to spend a day driving around and never actually have a proper conversation with anyone.
I started to yearn for the days I could leave the kids with my mum and go away for a night, or go to the office for a few hours and see my business partner and colleagues, or go out for a drink and not worry about driving back. I also missed the logistics of London, where I could run errands in an efficient way—go to the bank, pick up dry cleaning, buy dinner and have lunch all within my lunch break. Doing all that at one time would take me literally hours in LA…
After a month or so in I got into a routine, and I started to properly pick up on work again. It soon dawned on me that I would need to wake up around 4am or 5am to be able to work London hours. I still don’t know why I had not thought of the logistics before I left for LA—I blame sleep deprivation and baby crazy, but it could just be my philosophy of, “I’ll work it out”. Whatever it was, the reality meant that I started to wake up before the kids got up, take a break to get them up and drop them off to school and nursery and get right back to work. Often, I only really stepped outside the front door for a break around 2pm. We live on a quiet residential street and the emptiness of the street was surreal – I felt like I was in an episode of the Desperate Housewives and stepping out onto Wisteria Lane. The 4am wake-up routine has stuck ever since; it is sometimes exhausting but usually it’s invigorating.
The first few years in LA were crazy, but I now understand that as much as my head said no to the move, but my heart told me, ‘You can do this’. I knew it would be tough, but I just had to go with a sense of adventure and see what happens. I come from a family of immigrants. My parents were first generation in London. My mum left her family in India to start a new life in UK, it was her first plane ride. My grandmothers married and moved when they were just in their teens, one moved from India to Uganda and the other from one town to another in India. My journey was a million times better, easier, more supportive, and kinder than theirs. There are always cultural changes, but little compares to moving to London in the 1970s, or Uganda in the 1940s.
In my heart I felt that if they could do it, so could I.
With hindsight I would have done things differently, of course, but what doesn’t break you makes you stronger. And besides, LA is a fascinating place. Although it is often hard to see the diversity, especially coming from London, it is diverse in its own way. Plus, LA is beautiful. I love the sunshine, the beaches, the trails, the mountains, and the ability to swim in the sea and ski on the same day (although I am yet to do that).
I have made friends who are now part of my family and reconnected with family I had lost touch with over the years. The move and settling into life into LA would not have been possible, without an amazing family, friends (old and new), nannies, and especially an incredible nanny/friend (Vicky) who helped me make it through the first year. Vicky was with me on endless flights between London and LA with all 3 children, never once complaining, even after a long delay and a sleepless 10-hour flight.
Yes, I could have been more organized, but if I had thought it through properly, I definitely would not have moved. Sometimes you just have to listen to your gut, your heart and go from there. I knew it would push me to my limit, but I handled it. I now know myself and my limits, and that with sheer grit and determination anything is possible.
Moving my family to LA has been an adventure and as much as the US is now home, when we move again (yes when, not if), it will be with a clearer head and with a new sense of adventure.
Here is to the next 10 years – in LA LA land, or wherever the journey takes us.
If you would like to discuss a move aboard, how to create and manage a remote working team, starting a business or transforming your existing business, I would love to speak to you. Just drop me a DM.