I'm sitting criss-cross on Clarissa's bed. She lives in Queens, N.Y., and today is my third day staying with her (she hasn't killed me yet). She's in the living room, talking to her mom on the phone after we spent our morning cooking, eating, pouring through our social media and, most importantly, for once, just relaxing.

Although I graduated just one week ago, I have been applying to jobs since November 2015. That was six months ago. I've had the interviews. Some were promising, with last-minute fumbles. Others were doomed from the prescreening call. As most post-grads, I have part-time employment that pays well, but I'm ready for the next step.

In months leading up to my graduation, I became more and more aware of my newly earned reality — infinity. As young, bubbly, energetic and freshly graduated early-20-year-olds, our choices are quite literally infinite. What choice would I make when May came around?

Actually, I don't remember when I decided I would move to New York. I still don't really know if I've convinced myself to do it yet, but I'll at least be in New York for the next two weeks. Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how life works.

Clarissa is the only person I knew coming here (although, with previous visits, I've acquired a new squad of humans to call my friends, if you will). I spent my first day somewhat alone this past Thursday, and it had me calling home to my partner and friends. It's not that I don't understand the value of being on your own, but as much as I'd like to say I have, I haven't ever really been on my own. I've always lived fewer than 30 minutes away from family and dear loved ones.

But I'm here now to pursue a career in entertainment media.

I've found inspiration in graduates before me who have made similar moves. Clarissa was (and continues to be) a huge advocate and supporter, Camille is the reason I started considering New York in the first place, Mary-Margaret always challenges me when I start to doubt myself and Kyle has been my sounding board of reason, realism and encouragement, urging me to chase my dreams on a daily basis.

Not only that, my amazing family threw me a graduation party, which was literally a house full of people who wanted me to do and be everything I wanted to do and be.

All that support and love, and I'm still terrified.

I could easily start my life here, but I haven't committed yet. So I guess the real reason I'm writing this post is to hold myself accountable.

Moving to New York is a strategic career move, and a bold statement. I've spent the last four years fighting mediocrity. I spent the previous 18 living it. I was never given any expectations of a successful future growing up. My father wasn't in the picture, but never went to college. My mother dropped out of school multiple times, depended on the government and extended family members for monetary support, and after she finally earned her teaching degree, was fired after her first year for undisclosed reasons. I am now unsure of either of their careers.

They both have earned their own successes — in their own ways — as we all do. I'm not throwing shade to the people who gave me life, but I also didn't really find inspiration in their contributions of work. And I was certainly never encouraged by them to achieve any better.

As a high school student, I was wrought with depression and anxiety. I worked constantly, but I didn't dream of exceeding the bare minimum for success, because all I could dream of is leaving a broken home. Truthfully, I only ever contemplated the minimum to get by, and I imagined my future life being lived on the bottom line.

For me, graduating with a degree at 22 didn't seem like a big deal until I actually started to reflect on my past and what it took to get me to this point.

I realized I have to commit to this move for all of the people who helped me get to school in the first place. I have to commit to this move to honor of all the people who helped me graduate. I have to commit because I couldn't imagine putting everyone through the time, dollars, sweat and tears they've exerted just to live unremarkably.

I have to commit for myself too. I think back on the stress and anxiety I gave myself during school because of overlapping responsibilities and burn-out (and procrastination, of course), and I owe myself something greater than ordinary. I also know I have to commit because I refuse to succumb to depression or anxiety for the rest of my life.

Above all, I know I have to commit because I'm one of the luckiest people in the world. So few of us are lucky enough to receive an education, let alone a postsecondary education. I could never imagine wasting my wealth of luck for any reason.

And perhaps I won't end up in New York forever. Perhaps I won't stay after my trial period. But this is my promise: I won't settle until I reach infinity.