It was my third day on the job, standing under the scorching south Florida sun. Even umbrellas offered little relief from the inferno heat. As evening approached, I felt a sense of relief — finally, I would be able to breathe.

    I don’t even remember the name of the restaurant I worked at. But I was grateful to have the job. I needed to make money. I had only a few hundred dollars left in my bank account after giving a three thousand dollars deposit to an immigration lawyer who disappeared without a trace.

    My job as a hostess at that restaurant was to seat people. Not just welcome them, but to actually persuade them to take a table. Tourists strolling leisurely were practically harassed at every step to check out the "specials," which were almost the same at every restaurant.

    I worked on Ocean Drive in South Beach, a chaotic strip of cafes and restaurants, crammed side by side, their patios overflowing with sun-kissed tourists sipping cocktails under string lights.
Perched right on South Beach, those restaurants had one undeniable advantage: location. A golden stretch of sand, the rhythmic crash of Atlantic waves, the palm trees, swaying lazily in the salty breeze made for an irresistible backdrop.

    Tourists flooded the patios, drawn in by the promise of oceanfront dining, but the truth was, the food rarely lived up to the view. The drive was crammed with ethers, each one blending into the next, offering the same uninspired seafood platters and overpriced cocktails. Yet, despite the lacklustre menus, the seats remained full — because, in the end, people weren’t really coming for the food. They were coming for the feeling of it all.

    It seemed I was lucky enough to be able to work in a paradise, and I wanted to feel it, but I couldn’t.
There was so much pressure on me from the managers and the waiters to make sure the restaurant was always full.

    Not only it was physically exhausting but also emotionally draining.

    I intuitively knew my days were counted at that restaurant. The world of business is brutal: you don’t sell, you are out. And I wasn’t selling.

    Those smily faces, speaking in different languages, sharing precious holiday moments with their friends and family and celebrating life — it all reminded me of everything I didn’t have. Everything I wasn’t.

    I never had a nice holiday with my parents, even by the lake, let alone a luxury paradise location like Miami Beach. We couldn’t afford to go out to restaurants…

    It made me a bit sad. But I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. So, I focused on where I was and what I was doing.

    I did my best. I always have. But was my best enough? As it turned out, it wasn’t. But I wouldn’t find out about it till later.

​    Just breathe for now, Anna. Enjoy the salty evening breeze. Take in the paradise. Look forward into your life not backwards. The whole life is ahead of you. I smiled at my thoughts to shift my state. It worked. I was happy.

    I lost my job at a restaurant. Having worked there for two weeks I was just let go without pay.
I was strolling on the South Beach, my long hair caught in the wind. The beach, as always buzzing with life — people riding bicycles or rollers, sunbathing, swimming, sipping Pina coladas.

    I wish I could relax and enjoy a Pina colada. My mouth got watered at the thought of juicy pineapple. I couldn’t afford it, so what was the point of dreaming? I brushed off that thought.

    I smiled at my predicament… I only had 200 dollars left. No job. And soon no place to live.
My roommate announced she was moving in with the other girl because they found an apartment together. I couldn’t afford to stay in the current studio by myself. Not that I didn’t would miss that bedbug infested tiny studio with a barely trickling shower.

    I chuckled with a sense of desperation. I was on the verge of being homeless.

    All of a sudden, the truth hit me like a ton of bricks.

    “What have you done, Anna? Was the whole mission a mistake? Was my American dream just an illusion?” It certainly didn’t feel like a dream. At least, in Ukraine I had the support and love from my parents.

    I felt so alone and helpless.
 
    There was a big void inside of me. Which you could argue, is a good place. Because that’s where all the things come from. From the void. It is the place of birth. The beginning.

    Yet, when you are in the void, it feels suffocating and empty at the same time.

     I was in the paradise, after all, I was thinking, scratching the bed bug bites on my arms and legs that itched like hell.

    I always tried to look at the bright side. With plenty of sunshine in Miami, there was a lot of bright sides.

    I could find a job, I could make money. I could get a clean place to live in. I could turn my life around.
I got myself an ice cream, which tasted divine in that heat, and started crafting my plan to make myself feel like I am back on a mission. Not giving up to temporary defeats. I was at the start of the new beginning.

    You have had the power all this time, even when it felt absolutely hopeless. And the moment you embrace that realisation, everything around you shifts. It is that proverbial saying, "when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." They really do!!

    P.S. The featured image of this article is my trip to UAE, Dubai and Abu Dhabi in April 2025. It is a reminder for you, you can have anything and so much more than you ever thought was possible. I never thought I would be doing what I love while travelling all over the world. It is when I gained control over my inner story that dictated all my outer stories, things dramatically shifted for me.