I have a friend who does not like cheese. She’s not a big fan of dairy in general. When she tells people this they rarely respond by saying, “I see. And I respect your feelings on this.” Nope. Most people react more along the lines of, “What?!? For the love all that is comfort food, you don’t like cheese? That is so weird. You are totally crazy!”
This post is a lot like that. I’m about to lay claim to something a lot of people won’t understand. I thought about not posting, but I can take a little “you’re so weird” and “that’s totally crazy” coming my way. I’m ready.
* * *
Yesterday I read this lovely post from Kristen at Motherse (all of her posts are lovely, by the way, so if you’re not reading, you should be). I thought I was casually reading a post, catching up on some favorite blogs over a cup of coffee.
Then my eyes filled, and tears landed in that cup of coffee.
I tried to ignore the emotion. But for the rest of the day I was alternately weepy and irritated. Weepy, because once the tears start I sometimes have trouble turning them off. Irritated, because once the tears start I sometimes have trouble turning them off.
I had, still have, no interest in exploring the source of my weepy irritation. But here we go anyway…
I don’t know. I just don’t. When Kristen talked about feeling at home – or not – all the thoughts I’ve been ignoring for six years decided to pull up to the front and park there. So it’s time to all be very honest with each other. I’ll start:
I get a pit in my stomach every time I fly home after a trip. I look out the window, see the city below, and realize I don’t feel like I think I should. It’s home – it’s where the people I love live – but for some inexplicable reason, I don’t feel a strong connection to the city itself anymore.
There is no logical explanation.
When Mark’s employer encouraged him to take a position here (we didn’t have to move, but it was preferred), I wanted to come back. I did. My extended family is here and I jumped at the chance to be close to them.
And that, there, is one sticking point on the way to logic. I couldn’t, wouldn’t move away. Not unless they all moved with me. I want my kids to be near their only cousins, to know them as friends and not just distant relatives. I’m also nosy and I don’t want to miss out on impromptu family meals. There’s that.
And then we have this neighborhood, this street to be more specific. We’ve never lived anywhere like this before, and could not hand-pick better neighbors. So there’s that, sticking point number two. They would all have to move with us, too.
Again, logic escapes this situation.
People love this city. I’m one of a handful of native-Austinites in a land of newcomers, because people from all over the world flock here. Then they gush about how fantastic it is. And it is. It’s a nice place.
(The weather is horrible and we’re all drying up into prune people thanks to the drought, but otherwise it’s a nice place. People argue that our winters more than make up for our miserable summers, but I don’t agree. I say that I agree, just to get along, but I really wish we had some seasons, for crying out loud.)
Austin simply doesn’t feel like a fit. I commented on Kristen’s piece that I’ve been waiting for the entire six years since our return to have the a-ha, the click moment. The one where it all slides into place and feels like home again. Why doesn’t the city feel like a fit?
The people here, though, the ones I moved back for and the ones we’ve met since returning, they do fit. They feel just right, to quote Goldilocks.
And I suspect that’s what matters, isn’t it?
Home is where the heart is and all that business. Cliche, but true. Even though I look out the window of the airplane and think, what the hell am I doing here?, I also think, I can’t wait to see my family and friends. I don’t want to be without them.
So there’s that. I have my answer, don’t I? Time to get over it and move on. But not move.
This is home, because the people who matter are here. As my husband says, relationships are stronger than the weather. What he means, and I feel, is that if it simply came down to crappy weather or a vague feeling of disconnect, we could pack up and move. It doesn’t come down to that, though. It comes down to the human experience. The people.
And we will never replicate or replace what we have here, no matter how nice the weather is somewhere else.
{This, here, in these squiggly brackets, is a late addition to this post: I re-read it and feel strongly compelled to state that I don’t walk around dwelling on this topic. I don’t mope and pout. It doesn’t occupy my thoughts. I’m a (generally) happy girl. Life is good, as the t-shirt company says. But when I’m really honest, I feel a bit disconnected from my hometown. And that’s where this post came from. That’s all.}
I wonder…
:: What influences where you live? Family, work, environment, something else?
:: If you could live anywhere, where would it be?
(Me? Thank you for asking. I would choose somewhere with rocky beaches, foggy mornings, sunny afternoons, regular rain, occasional snow, seasons, and a short drive to mountains. Pacific Northwest, Northeast, somewhere like that. I know nowhere is perfect – everything comes with its own brand of potential natural disaster, its own set of issues, be it traffic or school systems… something. There’s always something. But if it fits, that makes it worth the issues.)
Lapsed homemaker. Looking to hire a full-time housekeeper who will work for the sheer joy of a job well done and free coffee. Interested parties, DM please. 
Growing up, I always thought I would move far away from Austin. Travel the streets of Rome, NYC, LA, etc…find a man and end up wherever. I stayed here, went to school here, met my love here, raise my boys here. I’ve seen Austin grow into a place I’m not so familiar with anymore. I do miss old Austin sometimes, and like you sometimes I long for something else, something different, maybe something more calm and serene and fad away. But our family and friends are here too and I know I would be robbing my kids of so much, and would ultimately miss that connection we do have with Austin. We don’t have the means to travel at whim so I try to remind myself I am on my own little slice of Earth- wherever it may be. Make the most of it, smile and laugh, be here now…don’t worry if you don’t like cheese, cause I don’t like curry, he doesn’t like hummus, and yes, that guy over there can’t stand ice cream. But I still call him my friend. :0)
I think I can connect with you in many ways. I love my hometown, but the one main thing that keeps me rooted here is my family…that’s what it boils down, too. And, of course, the friends – they’re fantastic too, but primarily my family.
BUT, I can’t help but think about living in a place with seasons either. I’m not far from Austin – north of San Antonio – pretty much in between SA and Austin, and the whether is the same, of course.
I think ideally I would love a place like Colorado! I love the cold, the snow skiing, and from what I hear, it’s pretty there in the summers, too.
BUT, ultimately, it’s that family thing again. I suppose that if they followed me wherever I went, like you, I would make it work and I would be happy. They would definitely have to be there though!
@Jessica, *to* That’s what it boils down *to*. Sorry, that would have driven me nuts!
Thanks for continuing this conversation, Missy. And thank you for the very kind words about my blog.
As you know, I completely relate to the feeling of displacement you mention here. Lately I’ve been asking myself if I will ever be truly settled and “at home” anywhere – and if I ever really felt that way in the place where I grew up before I left it. I worry that I am one of those hard-to-please, grass-is-always-greener types who will always think there’s something better around the corner even when things are pretty great where I am now. And so your experience – and your words here today – help me think about ways to find contentment where I am rather than where I wish I were.
But – to answer your questions – if I could live anywhere it would be back “home” in New England. We live in the Midwest for my husband’s job and it’s unlikely we’ll be able to move anytime soon. But if a similar position opened up somewhere in the Northeast, I’d have us packing right away.
You are not crazy at all. Every city has it’s own pros and cons. I lived in Austin for years and LOVED it, but that was years and years ago and when I go back now so much has changed about it that I do not love.
I have a love / hate relationship with my city as well. It’s too small. Too windy. Too . . . {insert my frustration du jour}. When it comes right down to it, though, I love the quality of life it affords us. My hubs commute is 3 minutes. Along the ocean. If I want him to join me eating lunch with the kids at school, he can. He comes home for dinner every night at 6pm so we can have the family dinners I so remember as a child {though my dad never went back to the office after dinner the way he often does}.
But yes, when my airplane is landing I often snicker and think: “I cannot believe I live here.” And it’s a snotty snicker. As if I deserve better. I’m just coming to realize {after 10 years} that this simply is better. For me and my family.
Girl, I am feeling you with every fibre of my being. I’m standing in that same boat as you and it just doesn’t fit any more. We moved back to my home town in Florida several years back. My family was here. We had friends. And now, I have a network of people as big as this town who are a part of my life. On the surface, it seems like the perfect equation: Small, southern town, almost Mayberryish, family around us, a great home, a beautiful life we’ve created for ourselves here. But I’ve grown out of these comfortable jeans. I yearn for more. And so does my husband. We have our sights set on Northern California and we are determined that in the next few years, we’ll be pulling up the stakes and headed out there.
You’re not crazy. I think that restlessness stirs in many of our hearts.
And I don’t like popsicles or most potato chips. You wouldn’t believe how many people insist that my dislikes are not true.
I only moved a mere 20 minutes away and I long to be back where I started. Something about the country is home to me. Yes I realize that 20 minutes away is ridiculous to miss but I get what you’re saying…only on a smaller scale 😉
Missy, this post resonated with me. I moved out of Texas for the first time 2 years ago and I feel a sense of home in AZ now. But my feelings about going back to Texas are mixed. With my father gone and my mom selling our childhood home, I am not certain if I would move back to Dallas. I find that my definition of home vascillates as I get older. I do agree that home is firmly rooted with the circle of people you love. And maybe that is the entire point – as you mentioned in your post.
My hometown doesn’t feel like home to me! I hate the seasons, the gloominess, the 10 months of winter (ok, so it feels like winter year round), the snow, and I could go on. I’ve lived here all my life, but I think I’d be happier in Florida. We’ve been on vacation there several times, and we love it. My husband says we’re going to retire down there, and if it were up to us, we would pack up and move down there now. But, we cannot live without our families, and they love this place. They love the sports teams, they love the city itself, and they LOVE the seasons. I always tell them how much I don’t, and they just look at me like I’m crazy. Oh well.
I LOVE every single post at Motherese.
She blogs about what matters.
Sometimes, I wish I’d change my blog to that.
But I like to laugh so much.
But, yes, she is LOVELY. And relatable. And relevant.
I have been living here, in our small town, for 16 yrs. I still feel like an outcast.
But it’s a lovely town, safe, small, my kids love it.
I sacrifice my mental health for them BUT I can do that because of my blog.
The wonderful friends I’ve met through my blog.
I was so sad before my blog.
Really. Before my blog: I was a different person.
People say make your own happiness: that sure was hard when no one in this cliquish town talks to you, or allows you into their groups.
The internet changed all that for me.
First time visiting you and not sure how I have never been here before.
Anyway, I am in a town that does not feel like home to me either. I think home is where you know the perfect restaurant for every occasion, where you feel a part of the community and where your kids can play at dusk while you share cocktails with the neighbors.
I haven’t found that place yet but I’m looking and hoping it is not a neverending quest.
This is another reason why I want to go one more place before moving “home”. Once we get back, we won’t be allowed to leave. 🙂
I wish we could easily “try out” different places to live without all the stress of actually doing it. Give it a try for a while and then leave if you’re just not feeling it. If that were the case, I would want to test out San Diego.