30 years...

I moved to Atlanta from NYC in 1996. I was 18, and it was the first time I was on my own. I loved it.

I was in college, The Art Institute of Atlanta, but I hardly went to class.I was too busy trying to enjoy my newfound freedom. I got a girlfriend, my first. I had new friends from other places, all of us experiencing Atlanta in the 90s.

So, even though I acted surprised, I knew I would not pass the semester. I figured, I would take it seriously in the second semester, but I was kicked out.

Suddenly, I was on the way home to New York, a failure. I couldn't handle it. My mom was so disappointed in me. I was disappointed in me. Not so much for the missing classes, but more for losing my freedom.

So when I got back, I had a nervous breakdown. I couldn't stand going back to New York life. I was running from my past, the foster home years still fresh in my mind. I had to go back to Atlanta.

I was able to stay with my Godparents in Stone Mountain. I got a job at Lenox Mall, and I lost my girlfriend. I was in a funk, and I didn't know what to do. This was my first heartbreak.

After a while, I moved in with some of my roommates and friends from college, to a spot in The SWATS. It was cool. That's where I met my soon to be ex wife.

After many ups and downs, I'm still here 30 years later….