I had a beautiful feeling the other day and it was how much I felt at home. It isn’t necessarily about our house, though I love it dearly and am so grateful for it, but I just felt rooted. Or something.
For a homebody who loves (even needs) routine, I haven’t felt very rooted since I went to college I think. I hated moving in and out of dorms every year. While I am glad I gave NYC a try, it never felt like home. I loved Connecticut, but my apartment always felt like a “stepping stone” to the next thing. Hoboken, we knew, was not going to be permanent.
Despite never feeling settled, I do feel like I did a great job of blooming where I was planted. I met amazing friends every step of the way. I haven’t stayed close with everyone (some friendships are definitely a “time/place/stage of life”) but I have a handful of girlfriends that I never would have met had it not been for moving around.
When we first moved to Madison, I felt gloriously anonymous. Mike grew up in the next town over, so he was running into people he knew every day. I could go into the grocery store and not see a single person I knew and not have a single person know who I was either.
But now? I feel woven into the community. I definitely felt this growing up in Tampa, but it’s definitely different as an adult. (Like it’s not that people know who I am just because of my mom’s bubbly personality or from school, ha.)
I’m volunteering with an organization I love and want to stay with for many years to come. I’ve tried to join a few town groups (this has been harder with COVID, but I’m trying). I have become great friends with another blogger after a cute little “friend date” last summer (👋🏻 Elsa). I reconnected with a friend from college who happened to move down the street from us. When I go to our town’s cafe, I stop to chat with friends (and feel like I’m turning into my mom, for sure). Mike and I see people we know when we walk the dogs into town.
I love this feeling– just at peace and happy with where we are. 🥰