On moving.
I have become an expert in something I never wanted to. Moving. Yet, even in having done it several times, there are still things I forget. Emotions that come along side a radical change like that and surprise me. This is an essay on moving – an encouragement for those in the messy middle of a season of upheaval and change. A piece of hope that I can give, and maybe just a friend letting you know you are not alone. This is always something I looked for and never could find. This topic isn’t written about often, not talked about except in the shiniest of terms, but what about the lonely days, the times you wonder if you made the right choice, the moments of absolute stress – this is just to say, I’ve been there – many times. You are not alone, and you will survive.
Moving sucks. It is quite possibly one of the most stressful endeavors one can undertake. Moving all your earthly possessions (some of us have a lot of possessions) from one place to another. Uprooting a life, family, community, familiarity.
This is my story – but perhaps you will find yours here too.
We (my husband and I) moved the first time right after college from Arizona because I knew there was a lot of beautiful world out there to see. I left AZ vowing to never return – I wanted to see GREEN! TREES! WATER! So we did. We moved with a uhaul trailer and two cars across the country to a small town in PA. There was the promise of a job here and some family, so we found an apartment and did our best. If you have ever moved to a small town, you may know – people don’t know what to do with you – “why did you move here” was often the question posed. We didn’t fit in very well, we made the best of it – we were newlyweds, I was pregnant and we just did our thing.
We took our first road out. My husband had the opportunity to move around for work – sending him to a new plant every couple of years to get experience in a new place. Our next stop was northwest Arkansas. This always felt like a short stop. I liked it, my husband didn’t. We found community and friends very different in many ways. We rented for the first year, but it was here we bought our first house – a split style ranch. We did many projects on this house in short order. It was our first experience with DIY, and this was when thrifting and furniture flipping started taking root in my soul. We tiled a kitchen and bathroom, painted the place from top to bottom, thrifted and scrapped together a cute little place. (I have very fond memories of this house). But – onward.
This time to Pittsburgh. We had two kids by the time we landed in Pittsburgh, one more on the way. So it was slower going in this house. I was tired. I remember vacuuming a room seemed like a bit too much. But when the energy returned, this house was fun – it had a farmhouse vibe to it. We did projects room by room, idea by crazy idea. I officially started my furniture flipping business in the basement at this house, and occasionally shared home ideas as well. We had just remodeled our kitchen when we decided to move – in town this time. We ended up in a cul-de-sac neighborhood with the best neighbors a family could ask for. We quickly settled in here, and I got to work on the house. This was the project house you saw here on the blog – we flipped that thing. There was nothing wrong with it – it was just a bit stuck in the 90s. Pittsburgh was where we finally felt like home. We had friends, we had community, we had good schools, good networks. We never felt this way in any of the other places we had lived. I often describe Pittsburgh as a city with heart – and this is so true – #iykyk.
A curveball came with covid. The small business my husband worked for shut it’s doors and in a job market that wasn’t looking great for small businesses, we took a leap and moved for a job in Massachusetts (I still don’t know how to spell that state without spell check). This happened so fast. We saw God’s hand of provision in every step of the way, but I did not want to leave Pittsburgh.
This was about the spot I left you. I had been planning a shift in my business already, but the trauma of uprooting – left me feeling pretty vulnerable. We bought the coolest house in Rhode Island (just on the border of MA) built in 1779. Part of me wishes I shared that journey here on the blog for you, but I wasn’t up for it. I was having a hard time figuring things out, and not in a place I felt like I could share. I felt completely out of control – I know many of us did during this time.
The house we bought was a renovated farmhouse – it was very old, but lived modern. No major renovations needed. So I did what I do best, I painted. We painted most of that house, kitchen cabinets included, I built book shelves, re-finished left over furniture. I even had a barn (what dreams are made of). We had to coolest house, the perfect spot to entertain – and knew a handful of people. Now, I know – it was covid times – things were different, people were wary, but moving to New England in the middle of a pandemic may be one of the least friendly places you could go.
Yes, we were where we were supposed to be, but I can’t say it every felt like home. Have you ever been in a place you just don’t like. It’s beautiful, old, charming, full of history, and yet you are just a square peg in a round hole. That ‘s how it felt. We knew we could stay, get our kids through school – but why?
During covid years so many of us realized the importance of family – how to take care of your people well. It was no different for us. We were feeling the tug to get back to family. My husband had a job offer in Phoenix – where I’m from, and where my family lives. His family was looking to move somewhere warmer, so all roads pointed west. Remember my vow to never live in Phoenix again? I’ve had to eat a lot of words lately. We moved to Phoenix and are slowly figuring out what it’s like to be near family again. Re-connecting with friends from high school and college, finding our place in a city that feels familiar – and yet is all new.
We’ve moved 8 times in 14 years. This is my exploration of what I’ve learned and maybe by looking back it’s a good way to look forward.
More on this topic soon. Also, here’s the business I was building while I was away from Roots & Wings Furniture.
