That First Scary Step

I really dropped the ball, guys. I promised to keep you all up to date on our adventure out to Arizona, I promised to bring you along on our journey to finding a new life out here, and I promised pictures. Now we’ve been here in Arizona for almost two months, and I haven’t delivered on a single one of these things. I can sit here at my desk and tell you that it was because life happened, and trying to find a way to keep up and not let it run us down took some time. I can tell you that it was because goodbyes are hard, and thinking about addressing the people and the lives we left back in Pennsylvania has just been too difficult. I can tell you that I am sorry, and I plan on making it up to all of you ten fold. Or, I can tell you all of these things.

The truth is, leaving our friends, family, and the only home we’ve ever known was hard. I cried ugly, full body, cries for like two months leading up to the move, and then on the day way we left, I had to all but have Dan drag me out the door and lock me up in the truck until we got out of Pennsylvania. I don’t have a history of making friends easily. When I was younger, my only friends were my cousins, my sister, and next door neighbor – who my mom told me I had to play with because I was being weird and rude by staring silently at her from across the yard while she enthusiastically tried to be my friend. Later, I would rely on other people to make friends for me. Two of my best friends are actually my sister’s best friends. My other best friend and my husband were introduced to me by the person who might actually be the only friend I’ve ever made on my own, and I’m pretty sure that he actually just felt really bad for me when we first met. My lack of friends isn’t because I’m a tragic goth who likes to sit in the dark writing poetry about all things depressing, and it isn’t because I’m a cold, raging bitch (…I think). I’ve just always been comfortable being alone and observing. Making friends has never been an active goal for me. I like people, I like having fun,  talking about life and drinking beers on patios with good, well-meaning people. But I’m also just happy to be alone, watching teen vampire dramas in my pajamas, or listening to podcasts during a solo walk in the woods. The point being, if I say you’re my friend, I really mean it. I don’t put time and energy into people or things that I don’t really care about. So leaving behind a genuine tribe was hard. You guys made this move the single most difficult decision I have ever made, and because of that, I have not been able to face my computer screen to address you, or our trip, or where we are in life. I want that to change, though. I miss everyone back home like crazy. Probably more than I expected.

People say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and I never fully experienced that feeling until this move. I knew that I cared about the people and the places that I grew connections and roots to, but I also knew that I wanted to experience more than just small town living in Pennsylvania. So another reason I have been having such a hard time is that I feel some sense of guilt, and I have been battling over whether or not I feel regret for making this trip. I have cried more in the past two months than I have in the past six years of my life combined. But I have also learned more about myself, about what I want, my hopes, my dreams. I have pushed myself in ways that I otherwise wouldn’t have, and I have learned new skills and lessons that I couldn’t have learned by staying in the same place forever. In just two short months, I have new clarity in so many places, and I have found blurred lines that I need to explore that I didn’t even know were there. So do I regret moving to Arizona? Absolutely not. Do I have moments where I question this? Yeah, like all the time. But in the end, I know that I’m growing from this experience in a major way. And who knows? Maybe one day I’ll move back to Pennsylvania a new woman. Or maybe I’ll finally live out my fantasy of building a skoolie, writing a podcast, and traveling the country with my husband. In any case, I know that no great change has ever come before a big, scary step, and I’ve taken that first scary step. So far I have a super nice car, a really great job that I never would have landed without moving here, a really cute apartment, a boat load of crazy new experiences, a new outlook on life, motivation to write more, get outdoors more, and be healthier.

With clarity and motivation come goals, and two of my goals are to stay more connected to people, and to write more often, so starting this week, I PROMISE that I will treat you to this journey and transformation. You can look forward to a new blog post every Saturday morning (but probably actually Saturday early afternoon. I live on Pacific time now, so my morning is far from yours). I will discuss the honest truth of how I feel being so far from friends and family, I will talk about my ever changing goals and aspirations, and I will keep you informed on what we’ve been up to with our lives. My support system may not be here physically, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want all of us to be together virtually and in spirit, so subscribe to this blog, follow along, and take care of each other in my absence from Pennsylvania.


6 thoughts on “That First Scary Step

  1. I know that first step had to be pretty scary and from what I know of your relationship with your family and friends back home made it that much more difficult to take that scary step. Life is way too short and experiencing new and exciting things should be s part of life. I am so happy you made that step and look forward to hearing and seeing what you share in the times ahead of you. ❤️


  2. And just like that, I was crying in a bar.
    I miss you, my best friend. And I’m forever proud of both of you for going on this adventure together.


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