I wish I could relocate back home… because I would in a heartbeat. People who have lived in the same vicinity as their hometown don’t understand how it truly is. I miss my home, homesickness is so real. When I moved here 6 years ago I had no idea what to expect — after graduating High School I decided that I needed a change and that my small-town looked like a bottomless hole of failure.
The Dixie Chicks said it perfectly, “…to find a dream and a life of their own.”At eighteen years old (technically I was still 17 when I started packing), I didn’t know what being an adult was. I lived in the safety bubble of my parents who made sure I had everything I needed. I had a reputation that wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ‘me’ either and I wanted a fresh start. I don’t even remember having any hesitations I was so determined to get out, I hadn’t even acknowledged the pluses and the minuses.
Looking back now I really admire myself for taking that step out of the norm and leaping into the big unknown. Granted, my cousin was in the process of house hunting and I would be her roommate, I was still on my own. I had no curfew, which meant I had to be responsible enough to not stay up until 3am for work at 6am (a battle lost). I had to hold down a full-time job (although I nearly worked full-time in High School), I had to pay bills, I bought my groceries. Things that I had never done before.
Then there’s the more obvious reasons why moving was a plus, I met my hubby and his family. I met all of the amazing friends that I now love to death. I wouldn’t have had half of the opportunities as I did back home — I’ve gotten to experience things that a lot of people back home don’t get to.
Going from a small town where you can’t go anywhere without knowing someone to a huge city is like a burst of cold air in the face. I didn’t drive on the freeway for about 4 months because I had never been on one before! Not knowing where to buy churritos, having to explain a chavela to a bartender or not seeing greenery from fields, it’s just bizarre.
My life before the city consisted of farm fields, the smell of livestock, the smell of alfalfa, desert bonfire parties, off-roading at wee-hours of the night, cold-drafts of air when driving on the outskirts of town, getting invited to a house party and knowing every single person in the room, having to make a ‘long’ (5-mile) drive across town to pick your friend up for a party. There’s also huge house parties (in the countys) which never got busted, late night dips at the river, river days where nearly everyone in school was at.
Here, I’m just an ant. No one knows me, no one travels outside of their 10 miles radius to party, no one knows what a chavela is. It’s a culture shock to say the least and it’s almost suffocating.
The outdoors have been such a huge part of my life, that I never realized how much of a country girl I actually am. Pavement and bricks are just not my thing, I need grass and land and ‘wide open spaces’.
My High School sweetheart took me to the fairgrounds one night to meet up with his friends. They were checking on their livestock because fair season was coming around in the spring, and we just hung out there for a bit. Afterwards we went to a bonfire out in the desert and partied the night away and he got me home by curfew. It’s a memory that I’ll always remember because it was just so simple and the perfect example of how I remember my home — easy going.
However, I would never change the decision I made because I’ve actually made a life for myself. I’m grateful for the experiences I’ve had, the people in my life, and what I’m making OF myself. But I would absolutely move in home in a second if I could. It’s hard for me to imagine raising my children in the city, where they don’t get to go to the lake 15 minutes away, sneak out and have bonfires in the desert or have a strong community like I had.
Who knows, maybe I’ll convince my hubby one of these days after my Stepdaughter graduates. It’s not too far away!
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