Uprooting (Or: Why We're Leaving the City for the Country)

This post has been a long time coming. I'm not just talking about waiting a few weeks to write it - this post has been in my heart for the past several years, I have a feeling that's no surprise to many who may or may not be reading. And now HERE WE ARE! In the past, making the big "we're moving announcement" on this blog has felt like an integral part of the process of uprooting ourselves. Like, first we tell family and friends, then I tell the internet at large. But this time it felt too personal. If you've been following along recently, you might have gleaned the past few months have been tough for us. My job/team was eliminated at Etsy, Chris's grandfather passed away... among several things that have felt too personal to post here but that have had a huge impact on us. If anything, 2017 has tested us and given us pause, it's forced us to think of the bigger picture in so many ways, we've faced mortality in others and we've had to face our own mortality, too. And for those reasons – and honestly, so many more – we've decided it's finally time we return to whence we came – New England. More specifically, Maine.

Maine!

It's funny writing this, thinking back. When I started this blog, I was very much a New England blogger – so much so that people were actually pissed I was moving, ha! – but at this point, I've been blogging in Pennsylvania for six years. Six YEARS. How wild is that? And yet, I think it's pretty clear my heart has always been "back home". We've always talked about moving back, but always in a far off, when we're older sense. When the timing was right. When we found the right jobs. When we had enough money. Well, if there's anything this year has taught us, it's that the timing will never be right. So, why not now? Don't get me wrong, this summer was pretty rad, but it was also very, very challenging. For the first time in my life, I didn't have a clear idea of what I wanted or where I wanted to be. As the primary breadwinner of our little family, the not knowing was an uncomfortable place to  be. I looked for jobs in Philly, I received a job offer over the bridge in New Jersey. It payed well – really well. We could have stayed put in our place and continued on with city life comfortably enough. I almost took it. Then Hank (Chris's grandfather) passed away and we travelled home on the week I was to make my decision. Death has a way of putting things into stark perspective and after the service I knew the job wasn't right, and neither was staying in the city. While Philly has been (mostly) good to us, when we thought long and hard about the kind of environment we wanted to be in, the kind of place where we're happiest, this wasn't it. And suddenly a paycheck wasn't enough to keep us here. And not a day goes by that I don't give thanks to myself for turning down that damn job. Essentially, the past few months have been full of questions...

"It's a question I think a lot about - do I move to where I want to be and take a chance or do I stay where I am, where I am comfortable, where I have a good job but I hate the town, the people, sometimes the work (hah), the climate..??? I'd love to hear how you navigate this and your thoughts."

N, I hope you don't mind me copy/pasting a portion of your recent comment in this post... but the questions you're asking are the same ones I'd been asking myself for the past couple of years. Is it enough to be comfortable? For me, it no longer was. I thought about going back to Free People, because the Navy Yard was an environment I was comfortable with and the company was one I was familiar with (and honestly really enjoyed) – but why? Just to pick back up where I left off? Just to stay where we are, in an apartment with a leaky ceiling? The thought of moving within the city was one we quickly brushed aside – we like our neighbors too much, enjoy living across from the park instead of across from more row homes, as much as the hole in the ceiling left much to be desired.

In the end, staying comfrotable felt like a death. We've met some incredible people in this city, but if we allowed our roots to get any deeper, I know we would both feel stuck. If we didn't move, we'd always be left wondering - what if? In making the decision to move, we'll at least know and can put the curiosity to bed. Maybe it'll be amazing... maybe it won't. But I can't keep wondering. Isn't it better to know, to see the other side? And honestly the struggle can't be any harder, at this point we've gone through some shit. This ain't our first rodeo, as they say (does anyone actually say that?). I think a lot of our hesitation/fear has been around jobs and money - afraid of not finding something, or to have to face hardship, forgetting completely that we've been through the wringer already. For all the amazing things that have happened over the past few years, we've also been broke, we've been mugged (seven times!), the car has broken down, jobs have been lost, medical issues that come with medical bills have arisen... essentially, we've powered through all the shit that's come our way. So we can handle all the good and all the bad that may come with this. For the first time EVER, we're not moving for a job (though I'm thankful to have a trial gig with a remote company, making it possible for us to have a small safety net or at least illusion of one, and Chris already has a ton of opportunities he's stoked about), we're moving purely to be in a beautiful place we love. I'm sad to leave our friends in Philly, but excited to get to know our parents as adults, to be able to see them casually on the weekends (instead of the typical frenetic holiday gatherings of the past few years), and to reconnect with our friends in that area (and for the hiking! And surfing! And real winters!). As my mom has reminded me over the years as we prepped to move from Beverly to Pittsburgh and from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia, "you make friends everywhere you go", and it's true. We'll always be able to visit Philly, and what's more, our friends now have a pretty sweet vacation spot if they ever come to Maine!

That's not to say I don't have my hesitations. We're lucky enough to be able to stay with my mom for a few months, but I'm also sad to leave the space we created for ourselves. Even though this was a decision we made on our own accord, there's a certain kind of fear that comes with returning to the very small town you grew up in (at least for me), even for just a few months. I'll need to wear real winter boots again – not just fun little booties. I'm incredibly sad to leave our friends and contacts in Philly, and my favorite coffee shop, and the yoga studio I feel at home with, and being able to walk all over the city, and the way sunlight filters down Pine Street early in the morning. And my stylist! I finally found a salon that I love, dammit. But these are small things. Things easily dealt with, and I have a feeling the benefits will outweigh it all. Friends can visit (and so can we). Cool winter boots can be found (plus, I mean snow). In the end, we're SO DAMN EXCITED about this. I know this post may sound tinged with a bit of sadness - but really, I'm exhausted! As much as we tried to approach this move like adults, per usual we're stressed and tired (is there any other way to move?). And I am a little sad. I'm about to say goodbye to our home of three years (plus, no more cat cafes to walk by in the mornings). But in the end, I'm excited for what's to come and for the opportunity to rediscover the dormant parts of myself and to get out of my comfort zone. So Maine, here we come! Let's do this.