Years ago, I talked to an expat who had lived overseas for over thirty years. He said that after being away from your country of origin for ten years, your sense of where you come from shifts. Your idea of home gets muddled. Because all your recent history has been spent in a place other than where you grew up, you begin to feel like you belong where you are, more than where you’re from.
Living in a different culture for so many years, I am sure, enhanced his experience even more so. But now, after living fifteen years in another state from where I grew up, I can tell you the words of this expat resonate. Though some parts of where I grew up will always feel like home, it has been surprising how many other places have felt like home too.
Though some parts of where I grew up will always feel like home, it has been surprising how many other places have felt like home too.
When I was twenty-three, a job opportunity lead me to leave my family and home in New England, for Pennsylvania. As I had spent years praying for and working towards getting such a job, moving didn’t seem like a big deal. In fact, it felt like an adventure. One, I could get out of at any time.
Only now, years later, I don’t know if I will ever move home. Not because I am committed to where I am or that there aren’t still things I miss about where I’m from. It just doesn’t feel like the next step. And I can’t see beyond that.
The cost of moving away from home—though worth the adventure it brings—is more than we are aware of when we pack up our cars and hit the road.
All this said, if I could go back in time, I would tell my twenty-three year old self a few things about moving far from home. By no means would I try to talk myself out of where my move has lead me—I’d just wish I had been more prepared. When you leave home, there are things you are giving up that you don’t realize you’ve relinquished until months or years down the line. The cost of moving away from home—though worth the adventure it brings—is more than we are aware of when we pack up our cars and hit the road.
If I could tell myself things about leaving home, they would be:
Making new friends can take time—possibly even years.
There is this crazy phenomenon called hot and cold climate cultures. Interestingly, in most cases, people groups living in warmer climates tend to be friendlier and more open, than those living in cold climates. This means, if we move to a cold climate state or country, it could take a while for us to break in to a social group and find friends. When I moved to Pennsylvania, someone told me it was going to take two years for me to find “my people,” and sure enough, it did.
Keeping old friends is really hard.
I wasn’t the greatest when it came to keeping up with my friends back home. Those that were able to contact me as much as I contacted them, seemed to last the longest. But trying to root yourself in a new job and a new place takes a lot of effort. And so sadly, more of my friendships fell to the wayside than I kept. If I move again, I hope things will be different. As I am no longer trying to figure out the things I was at twenty-three. But you never know.
Home becomes a feeling rather than a place.
After fifteen years, you would think I’d have planted some serious roots. Only, I can’t say our town or even our apartment has ever fully felt like home to me. Rather, times spent with certain people I’ve met here, the traditions we’ve built with our friends, and meeting and marrying Tony has felt like home. Home has become more about who I am with and what I am doing, than where I am.
You miss important moments in the lives of your family.
Sure, you make it home for the holidays, the weddings, and the funerals. But you aren’t there when your sister gets engaged or gives birth. You’re not there when your niece says her first word, or even when she goes to school for the first time. You watch your nieces and nephews grow up over FaceTime rather than in person. Only, you don’t just miss the beginning of life moments. You also miss time with your grandparents or parents. You turn around one day and realized your time with them is limited.
You have to build your community from scratch.
Most of us grew up in a community of classmates, neighbors, extended family, etc. But when we leave home, we leave all of that behind. And life is lonely without it. The only way to replace it, is by summoning our courage to meet our new neighbors, join a church or meet up group, get to know our coworkers—to put ourselves out there. And as with building friendships, it takes time.
Have you ever left home?
If so, what was the hardest part for you?
If not, what has kept you home?
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