My car all packed up getting ready to leave South Carolina
In my entire life I can really only say that I moved 3 times.
When I was 17 I left my parent's house and headed off to college. It wasn't a big move geographically but it marked the beginning of my independence.
For the next 8 years I lived the life of a nomad going from the freshman dorms, to a series of apartments and finally a house. Regardless of my physical address, however, Phoenix was my home. It was the place I thought I would put my roots. I never pictured living anywhere else.
And then during one of the lowest points in my personal life, I needed out. I needed something new, somewhere new. I sent out resumes across the United States. I didn't care where I went as long as it was out of Phoenix. Then I got the call. The perfect job opening in South Carolina.
Without a second thought, I accepted the job offer. I had no place to live. I knew no one. I had no idea what I had in store. Life was one big adventure. Little did I know that moving to South Carolina was my destiny.
I was meant to live in the South Carolina. It was the place where I found myself. The place where I could be whoever I wanted and not what people expected me to be. The place where I was free of toxic relationships. The place I found myself. I was able to reconnect with old friends and find myself; discover myself.
Then it happened, I met my soulmate and there was only one problem; he lived in France. I was faced with the choice of having to move yet again and this time across an ocean. Leaving myself behind and the life I had created the life I loved. I had no idea what would be waiting for me on the other side if I chose to leave; but I knew he was the one. I knew that owed myself the opportunity to be happy and so I gave away all of my personal belongings and left.
Moving was so easy. I never worried about consequences or whether or not I would land on my feet. There was nothing ever holding me back. It was all about the journey and the adventure of it all.
But now we are faced with the possibility of moving again and it terrifies me. We are no longer two carefree people but three. We now have a tiny little person to think about. The stakes are higher. Life isn't bad, but it isn't home. We are strangers here. We are living in a culture that is not our own, and yet it is the only culture that our son knows.
So what would it take for us to move?
The answer is so simple and yet is complicated. We need stability. We need security. We need to be able to find a place where we can grow as a family and put roots. Maybe, South Carolina.
Submitted as part of Mama Kat's writing workshop.
Prompt 2.) What would it take for you to pick up and move?