Not long ago, my mother made a confession. “You know,” she said, “when you moved up there, I thought what is she crazy? She won’t be happy up there. She’ll move back in a year.”
She never shared those thoughts with me before we hired the moving van, so I was a bit surprised to hear it.
“But,” she continued, “you’ve really found a nice little community for yourself.”
Ten years later, I think I can agree with her.
Moving away from family and friends was hard – harder than I thought it would be. I was a new, stay-at-home mom, living in a community of strangers and, quite often, I found myself bored and lonely. I remember talking to my girlfriend, who had moved away years before, and telling her about the hour-long baths I gave my toddler daughter in the middle of the afternoon. “Ahh, yes,” was her reply, “I remember doing that. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, nobody to talk to. You need to do something to pass the time.” I hated admitting that she was right.
Those were days that I thought would never end.
Eventually I wandered out into my new world of strangers and slowly began building a community of my own. My circle was small at first – mostly neighbors and a few of the other Mommy-and-Me moms – but it quickly began to grow. As it grew, I made some eye-opening realizations and stepped in some unexpected drama but, that was exactly what I needed in order to find my people.
These days, there’s an interesting flow to my circle of friends; small circles feed into bigger circles which feed into this pretty amazing community of people that, my transplanted family and I, can call our own. There are no more days of nowhere to go, nothing to do and nobody to talk to. Calendars are full, not enough hours in the day to spend with people who understand our thinking and enjoy our company. And the days of hour-long afternoon baths are long gone, replaced by invitations to meet for coffee on a random Friday morning – showering optional.
Yep, I’ve definitely found my people.