Fresh out of a masters degree, I decided that it was time to fly the nest, and see what the world had to offer.
I longed for major hustle and bustle, and the excitement only a melting pot city can bring.
So, naturally, I packed my bags (all 4 of them) and headed to New York, the concrete bloody jungle.
All my life, I had dreamed of moving to New York, and even now, I've been home for almost three years – and I still plan to move back.
In fact, I'd go in the morning, given half a chance.
But I digress…
I loved my time in the Big Apple, the city, the lights, the new and amazing friends I met, that I still speak to every week.
I set myself up nicely, a gorgeous house with my close friends, a glamorous internship in a fashion PR company, and a cheeky bar job.
However, as amazing as my time was, there were days that I desperately longed for the comforts of home.
You find yourself missing the small, insignificant things that you'd usually take for granted.
I missed the familiarity of home. You know exactly where your going and how you're going to get there – whether it's a bar or a party.
In NYC, I found myself whipping out Google maps for the first few months, in a desperate attempt to get to where I needed to go.
After a while, I got the hang of it, but I still had those days where I got on the wrong subway, or took a wrong turn.
I also missed the little comforts of home. Up until the day I moved to New York, I lived at home with my parents, my brother and my STUNNING dog.
I never had to think about stuff like furnishing a home, buying toilet paper or even stocking the fridge – it was always done for me (yes, I know, spoiled brat etc).
So while I was away, my meals consisted of yoghurt, sparkling water, and bags and bags of pasta. Nutritious.
I also really missed the craic.
No offence to Americans (I love you all), but there is something truly unique about the Irish sense of humour.
There were days where I'd spend minutes laughing at my own jokes, only to realise that my mates had absolutely no idea why it was funny.
You know what I missed most?
A good dose of tea and biscuits, while having the chats with my mum.
Seems kind of silly, but there is honestly nothing I love more than coming home after a long day, and flicking the kettle on.
Pour up mugs of tea, devour the packet of chocolate digestives you have in the press, and have a good little gossip session.
Those special moments you share with your mum at the kitchen table, or on the couch.
Not major milestones like birthdays, the simple sweet things in life (like a great cuppa and a biscuit)
You can't beat it.
However, New York… I'll be back, keep my seat warm.