The Consistency of Change
#BlackLivesMatter
This article is raising awareness about
CAMPAIGN ZERO
Which uses data, research and policy solutions to end police violence
I’m moving again. Is it normal for constant change to feel like a routine? I’m moving and my days are spent packing up books and clothes and the framed pictures that come with me everywhere. I have 3 items of furniture and they will be left behind. Nashville will no longer be called home and I have no issues with that. I’m excited to sneak out of this city quietly, with almost no goodbyes, and wake up the next morning in another place.
My mind drifts away thinking about the places I’ll miss and the restaurants and bars I’ve frequented for the past five years. I think about the friends and people I met here, and how many I no longer speak to. It’s weird having been in a place for five years where people have drifted in and out of my life and I haven’t been the one to leave and grow distant. I’ve watched friendships fall apart and I’ve helped friends move and gone to visit them in their new cities. It is my turn to leave now.
I wish I could somehow capture the days of my mid 20’s in Nashville, putting the music and playlists and alcohol and bars and men and cologne together into a package so that you could experience it all at once, like I did. It was a whirlwind of days of heat and sweat and naive love. The hot, sticky heat of Nashville’s summer combined with packed, loud bars made for some wild evenings. Men and women with different accents visiting from other countries and cities for fun or for business. We lived and learned and did it all dressed in our best outfits, perfect makeup and carefree attitudes (due to the shots of Jack Daniels honey whiskey we pre-gamed with).
I bitch about Nashville a lot and how much I hate it, but damn did I fall in love with so many people and places from this little southern city.
I fell in love with the Australian that I couldn’t let go of, the British men that came and went, and then there’s the one that made me want to stay for the first time. There are coffee shops and bars and my favorite burger spot that I’ll miss, these places have held years of memories.
Because Nashville is full of visitors, sometimes I forget that I am not one. It’s been five years of living in this city and I still tell people I’m new here. My time here was light and fun but, at times, dark. The summers turned into long, depressive winters. Texting men I knew didn’t care and I would never see again just to feel something, just for attention, just to pretend, in my own mind that someone cared and wanted me as much as I wanted them in that moment. I lost myself in these men, in the wine, in the texts and phone calls and sleepless nights. I started to feel lost here. I lost parts of me, the parts I loved the most.
Nashville has been the wildest time of my life and the hardest. I have gained friendships and sadly lost some, which has been the hardest part of it all. I wish I could remember every moment, all the hard times and happy memories and all the moments when life felt blissful in this city. I know they were there.
Can a city change you? Am I a different person in every city I’ve ever lived in?
Can I keep myself, the person I am in Nashville, when I move to this new city? Do you ever feel like you have an alter ego for each city you go back to? I know Nashville changed me, I learned lessons here I’ve never learned anywhere else and I hope that those stay with me when I move. I’m not only moving suitcases either, but the emotional baggage from each city too.
Moving is and will forever be part of my life. Change and newness and packing and suitcases. I will never outrun this and I don’t think that I want to. Part of me longs for stability though, this idea of being stationary, of having a home to go back to, of family in one place. Maybe that’s something I lost with this TCK upbringing and maybe I have to resolve on my own and push myself harder to stay. I’m going back to a long-distance relationship, so I know this next move is temporary as well. It never ends, does it?
There are homes I want to make mine. Homes I want to discover and stumble upon. Places that surprise me, full of people I don’t know. Every new city could be my home. Every new beach or lake or mountain. Home is always changing, it is out there waiting for me. I’m surrounded by people who love to stay and I feel foreign. I’m ready to move again. I’m ready for change.