Moving to a new city basically alone has been nothing that I expected. I’m not sure what I thought it would be… but I tend to romanticize everything. So obviously I was going to move and find the perfect job that gave me boat loads of cash, an immaculate apartment and make ALL the new friends… I nailed the job situation, working on making all the friends and am basically homeless (jk- my amazing friend Nicole is letting me stay in her spare room that frickin’ angel).
Recently I spent six days back in Seattle with my family after moving away just five months ago. And. I’m going to be honest…
I don’t miss Seattle one bit. There. I said it!
Talking to people around California, most shake their head at me when they hear I moved from Seattle to Northern California. Usually a “What?! I love Seattle it’s so beautiful!!” followed by a personal story about the city, comparisons about Seattle and where I live now and blah blah blah. Sure- Seattle is a pretty beautiful place. But I also lived there (and around the city) for almost 27 years. Cities lose their charm after time. Or maybe Amazon strangling the life out of the city and raising the rent is where you draw the line (pls don’t be mad Amazon, I love 2-day shipping don’t ban me).
I absolutely love my family, and I miss them like no other. My brother is one of my best friends, and getting to spend a few days with him was exactly what I needed. But I wouldn’t go back.
Okay, of course I’ll go visit. But Seattle doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I have so many memories, both good and bad, that I’m perfectly fine leaving behind. Something happened when I moved to California and it stirred something up inside of me that was in a deep hibernation. And the guilt of that is why I’m writing this.
I feel so guilty for leaving behind my family and friends.
I feel guilty that I ‘ran’ away and started my new adventure.
And I’m pretty damn sick of feeling that way!
Don’t feel guilty for putting yourself first. For so long I was just getting by, working jobs to make ends meet and making sure I balanced enough social time between friends and family WHILE pushing my anxiety and depression deep, deep down. I think that if I didn’t move I would have exploded. And instead of a mental breakdown I’m having a mental breakthrough.
I’ve talked about people calling me brave before- psst, the secrets out. I’m just as scared and afraid as I was by the idea of moving months before I packed everything up as I am right now. Sitting here in my friends apartment, because I moved with little to no plan, and knowing that I have almost no one here and just a handful of those back home… let’s just chalk it up to me being terrified.
But it’s okay to not miss home and it’s also okay to be scared (and cry a little too often) for what’s to come. But no matter how many ups and downs I go through, that regret of leaving everything behind hasn’t hit me. And I honestly don’t think it will.
Everything is temporary, and whether we choose to pursue what’s happening or change it completely just remember that this is your life and you can live it however you want. Take them reigns because you can go anywhere! Literally.
If I’ve learned anything these past few month it’s that being confident and happy in my own skin is what’s most important. I struggle almost daily with self-doubt and letting that little voice in my head take over moments of confidence. But I persist. I can do anything I set my mind to, and working towards finding my new fit is worth the fight.
Have you moved to a new city? What’re your survival tips?