Change

Change.

The word has many meanings, but when used as a transitive verb, Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as "to become different" and "to undergo transformation, transition, or substitution."

A couple of months ago, I was faced with a difficult decision. Stay or leave? I wish I could say I am someone who relies heavily on the decision-making process, but I am not. I have always leaned on my gut feeling to point me in the right direction. That's not to say I didn't weigh the pros and cons of the situation. I did. But what I paid closer attention to was how I felt, specifically, what I felt I needed to do to protect my future well-being.

So I left.

Before the move, I lived in a beautiful, luxurious high-rise in the downtown metropolitan area of a major city. Despite the building's grandeur and incredible amenities, the apartment itself was small and cramped, a notorious downside of living in the city. During my time there, I learned to appreciate the city for what it was, but often felt frustrated by the superficiality of the people I came across. I struggled to find people with similar interests. As a result, I spent a lot of time alone, picnicking in the park, exploring museums, or reading a book on a nearby beach. It was in these moments of solidarity that I realized this city may not be it for me. I didn't feel "at home." I yearned to be a part of a community. To feel seen, heard, and welcomed. I wanted to be surrounded by people who shared my interests and passions. It was on these solo quests that I realized that the city, despite its alluring nightlife, beautiful beaches, Michelin-star restaurants, and captivating skyline, was no longer what I needed. I had changed.

“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong.” ― Mandy Hale

I am writing this from my sofa in my cozy, spacious apartment. I now live in a small, suburban town about five hours north of the city. Long gone are the skyscrapers, blaring sirens, and sidewalks bustling with comers and goers. It is quiet here. I am surrounded by lush, green grass and fields full of hundred-year-old trees. When I close my eyes I can hear the birds singing and the breeze rustling through the trees. My neighbors and I exchange pleasantries in passing. I have family nearby that I see often. I have a job I am passionate about. I am involved in the community. I am happy.

This move has shown me that "home" is not simply a residential address, or somewhere you lay your head to rest at night. It is so much more. It is your peace.

As we age and transition through different periods of our lives we will inevitably experience change. May you welcome it and change gracefully.