Moving: Part 2

ADDED LATER:

I wrote this post on November 24, 2020, right after finding out I was positive for Covid-19 and having to quarantine for two weeks. I had already met Kyle for the first time earlier that month, when he drove all the way to Ashland for our first date. We went bowling and had dinner and then went for a walk (we kept adding on to the date because we were both having such a good time).

I think when I was writing I didn’t really want to share any of these personal things with the whole world yet. And I never published it because I had left so much out.

The photo shows a chocolate covered fruit basket that Kyle sent me upon finding out that I was sick and would not be able to get together in person for a while, which I also happened to receive November 24 when this was written.

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I’ve learned that departure can be more definite than arrival in some cases. I entitled my last post on moving “Part 1” so that I would have to follow up with the next part of my transition. Months later I’m finally doing it, but I didn’t expect such lingering uncertainty about what this post is actually about. I figured the first title would give me incentive to give an update once I had moved into my own apartment in Ashland. Well, I guess at the time I wrote the first post I didn’t know exactly what my new living situation would be, so once I figured it out I would just piece it together. Time has figured some of that out, but I’m still piecing it together.

Leaving Charleston, I had a particular move-out date where I had to say goodbye to my old home. The more I look back on it, the more I realize that Charleston really had become a home, and I’m proud of myself for having been able to do that. I went there for a job, succeeded at becoming a teacher, and found my community while I was there. I miss a lot of things about it, like waking up on a Saturday and sitting on the patio with a coffee while the Charleston sun blazed on my face over the treetops no matter if it was June or January. I miss hopping on my longboard to clear my head and seeing alligators in the ponds I passed by. I miss long evening chats with my roommate, Juliet, about everything from Anglican sermons to YouTube pranksters. I miss spontaneous Friday happy hours at the Mexican restaurant around the corner from school, where the waiter knew our order of margaritas and queso by heart. I miss going to church downtown, where you could park for free in the garage and then use those extra hours of free parking after the service to stroll down to the Battery. I miss having summer days where I could stroll to my apartment’s pool and fitness center. It’s nice remembering those things, especially because my last few months in Charleston weren’t especially marked by all the fun things like that when Covid-19 started. Charleston was truly an important part of my life as a young adult.

I still consider myself a young adult, and I’m thankful to still be in that age range, because I don’t really ever want to grow up. Having a job and responsibilities is fine when you enjoy what you do, but I never want to lose the carefree, spontaneous attitude that I realized I could still get away with when first starting life on my own in Charleston. I worked really hard during my first two years of teaching, but it was also important to me that I have fun while I could. I learned from that part of my life that it’s important to surround yourself with people who will enjoy life with you one day at a time while also supporting what you put your mind to in the long run.

Moving into my own apartment wasn’t as scary as I had anticipated, and that’s because of my family and friends. My dad, Cindy, and Thomas brought all my stuff from the moving truck down to my apartment in several loads and helped me get it where I wanted inside. After that my mom came and helped me unpack my boxes. In reality, I was moved into my apartment with all my things within a few days. And because my things were there and my family could visit, it felt like my own before long at all.

Now that I live alone, I have to be more intentional about keeping up with those relationships. My work friends aren’t all my age anymore, and while I live closer to my friends and family in general, they aren’t my next door neighbors. I’ve been thankful to be part of a women’s group at a local church, and have felt like I have made connections with people through that. My school is a wonderful community that looks out for me too. Otherwise I’ve been keeping in touch with friends virtually, which is fitting for the time that we’re in.

I’ve been cautious about limiting the number of people I see in person, but over the time that I’ve been home I have been able to catch up with many old friends. The best part is that they’re all within an hour or so’s drive, which is nothing compared to two plane rides like before.

As the winter season sets in, I have been feeling more and more settled in my new place. My little apartment is my own, and my job is something I work hard at and feel rewarded doing. I have people I can call who would be there if I ever needed anything, whether that’s right down the road or a bit more of a trek across cities. With all this support I look forward to continuing to establish myself here, because I know from past experience that I can do it.