I keep asking myself, “Is this real life?”
Not in the existential dread kind of way (for once), but in the wait… this feels too good to be true kind of way.
Because as far as new starts go?
This one came with ocean views, toes in the sand, and a job that makes me feel like I just stepped into a sun-drenched Pinterest board.
I work here: The Barbara Beach Club !!! an effortlessly cool, public beach club nestled in Santa Barbara. Yes, that Santa Barbara. The one that looks like a coastal dreamscape with breezy vibes and golden hour lighting that seems suspiciously permanent.
I’m the Guest Services Manager, which sounds fancy, but mostly it means I spend my days doing a little bit of everything. Coordinating reservations, curating experiences, helping guests have the best beach day of their lives, and low-key living my own every single time I clock in.
Honestly, it’s surreal.
I spent MONTHS!!! like, full-on chronically-online-job-hunter mode, trying to find a career that recognized the years of retail management I’d poured my soul into. I wanted something meaningful, long-term, not just a filler gig to pass the time. I applied to over 500 jobs (yes, five hundred), and I’m not exaggerating. I sat through rounds of interviews, got ghosted more times than I care to admit, and was told “you’re not quite the right fit” so many times it became my internal monologue.
Until one night, in a haze of frustration and stubborn hope, I said, “Screw it. I’m applying to something that just sounds fun.”
Enter: The Barbara.
A cute, coastal, Instagram-worthy beach club where the vibes are relaxed, the umbrellas are perfectly pastel, and the sand is both your office and your runway. Every day we set it all up, tear it all down, and custom-create beach experiences that feel both luxurious and accessible. Like you’re starring in your own chill summer montage.
And it’s not just the setting.
The people? Incredible. My bosses are kind, supportive, human. The kind of people who trust you to show up as yourself and cheer you on while you figure out your next steps.
And that’s exactly what I’m doing.
This job, this place, it’s giving me something I didn’t even realize I was desperate for: space.
To think.
To breathe.
To write again.
To paint again.
To remember what joy feels like without pressure attached to it.
So here I am: starting over. Skin getting tan. Hair turning beachy blonde. Mind a little clearer. Heart still a mess, but healing in the sunlight.
It doesn’t feel real. But it is.
And I couldn’t be more grateful for this weird, wonderful, windswept chapter of my life.
Here’s to California beginnings, soft resets, and chasing the kind of life that makes you whisper to yourself, “wait… is this actually happening?”
Spoiler: it is.
And it’s only just beginning. 🌊🌞✨
