One Thing I’ve Learned from Every Place I’ve Lived: My Midwestern Hometown (Ep. 3)
Somewhere in the beginning of 2024, I had the idea for this theme. I’ve lived in quite a few cities in the last 10 years, some of them dreams fulfilled and others happy accidents. Most of these places were my homes for a year or more, while a couple of them ended up being just a few months. But each one was meaningful in its own unique way and has left me with lifelong memories—good, bad, monumental, uneventful—and lessons learned.
In this series, which I’ve decided to separate by “episodes”, I’m going to choose just one of those lessons to ruminate on and, in a way, to symbolize my personal attachment to each place. These posts will be complemented by some hopefully fun (possibly funny) throwback pictures too, of course!
Episode Three: Getting Creative with the Unexpected
I spent the first twenty years of my life living in my cozy Midwestern hometown, so it’s safe to say that the lessons I learned during that time were innumerable! For this series, though, I’d like to focus on the period of time when I moved back: after living across the pond in the UK and Spain and before moving to France.
I’m not sure if I’ve said this online before, but the truth is: I wanted to stay in the UK. After graduating with my Master’s degree, my dream was to find a job in Bristol or London. But, alas, visas can be a troublesome obstacle…so after a brief spell in Spain, I faced a moment of limbo—not quite sure where I could or wanted to call home or what direction my career might take. I was very fortunate to be warmly welcomed back into my parents’ home; and it was during that period, roughly two years, that I took the time I needed to reorient myself, kickstart my career, and make plans and savings for my next steps.
My childhood was a full and blissful one, and I’ve always kept a close relationship with my parents and sisters, even after years of living far away. While I was happy to spend more time with my family again, I knew already at that time that my hometown wasn’t where I saw my future. It was a difficult decision to return, and in some ways felt like taking a step back from my goals. But the next few years would illustrate a lesson that I hadn’t yet experienced for myself: no matter how many steps back you might have to take (or feel like you’re taking), you can create your own way back if you hold onto your dream and work toward it—in whatever creative ways you can.
Settling in, of course, was no problem: I had my old room, all of my comfortable furnishings, and a home routine that felt welcoming. My search for work was…something else…with a few interesting interviews and temporary jobs to memorialize my post-graduation months. It didn’t take long, though, to find a good opportunity where I could contribute and learn. During this time, I never stopped plotting my next move and building up the skills and knowledge that I would need to make it.
I was already in a serious relationship with the person who would later become my husband, but long distance was far from easy. What it gave me, which I didn’t fully appreciate until later, was the motivation to look forward in a way that I had never had before. Now in my first “real” full-time job, I prioritized saving and paying off my student loans, made possible by frugal spending and my parents’ generosity to let me live with them for as long as I needed (for which I’ll be forever grateful!). My weekdays were spent commuting and working from an office, which gave me invaluable experience for the next step of my career. I also began to teach myself French. I had learned Spanish in a classroom, but now I looked for a tuition-free method—and ended up making one of my own.
Through free apps, some outdated open-access course materials that I found online, and quite a few YouTube videos, I began to make progress. Soon, the lifestyle vlogs I had put on in the background while cleaning or putting on makeup (my improvised method of French immersion!) started to come together like puzzle pieces, and I was able to follow along—using clues from context and the comment section—with bits of the everyday life of people living in French-speaking places. It wasn’t real immersion, but it was a step toward where I saw myself next, created from the limitations of where I was.
That’s not to say that every moment was ripe with productivity or that I wasn’t affected by the perceived stagnation of my situation. There were days when it felt like I had lost my chance—that the vision I had of my next steps had expired and I would just have to invent a new destiny for myself. This is where I’m immensely thankful for the love and patience of my family and friends. Though some of my closest friends were now in other cities, countries, and continents (that would only magnify in the coming years), I found myself surrounded by a support base and had no shortage of diversions when I needed them.
This lesson didn’t fully sink in at the time. Except when spending quality time with loved ones, I’m pretty sure I was just looking for a way to wipe the slate clean—to find a way to finally defeat the impossible level’s big boss and forget all the times I’d had to click “restart from last save”. But sometimes it takes all those tries to find the strategy that works. Instead of changing your settings to an easier mode, it’s worth first looking at it from another angle, practicing the skill-shots and combos until they feel natural, and giving yourself the grace to desynchronize a few more times before you discover the winning play. (As much as I love this video game metaphor, I can’t say that I’m quite this pleasant when I’m actually playing Assassin’s Creed.)
Since moving away again, I’ve never gone back to live in my hometown, and odds are I never will. I’m fortunate to be able to visit from time to time, and each time I find myself ever more grateful for that interim period—after I had discovered what it was like to follow one dream in Bristol, but before I could make my next dream a reality.
I might have taken my hometown for granted when it was all I’d ever known, and I don’t think I fully appreciated it when it was my safety net during those years either…but now I do. That time was a gift, one that allowed me the sanctuary and focus that I would need to take my next big step; and those memories are some of my favorites from the first place I ever called home.
