A week from today is my last day of work.
Just think about that for a moment.
Eight months ago, Dan and I were sitting in a booth at Chili’s (don’t judge me – their honey chipotle chicken crispers are the BOMB), talking about potentially, maybe, possibly moving to Seattle. It was just an idea. It didn’t even seem real.
At the time, I was an emotional wreck. My parents had just purchased a condo in Sonoma, and were talking about moving there full-time, and I was feeling abandoned. I had moved back to the Bay Area a year earlier with dreams of raising my kids here and having my retired parents around to babysit. I wanted them to be a bigger part of their grandkids’ lives than my grandparents were of mine. I saw Fremont as temporary. I was looking at houses in Daly City and South San Francisco – places that were only twenty minutes from my parents’ house rather than an hour.
But even if we moved farther north, Sonoma was still too far for them to have any regular interactions with us or our children. An hour doesn’t seem like much, but when it’s driven on rural highways, on busy weekends, and by aging parents who no longer want to drive at night, it becomes problematic.
So I pulled the trigger. Because if everyone else was moving on with their lives, why shouldn’t I? I’d wanted to live outside of California for more than a decade. Now was my chance, and no one was going to be around to tell me “no.”
Weeks went by. Dan talked to his boss. His boss agreed. An offer letter arrived. I started house hunting. We dealt with real estate drama. And then suddenly, it was February. Suddenly, we were ten days away from a day I never really thought would come.
I’m starting to feel guilty about leaving all of this – our friends, our families, the life we’ve built here – behind. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
When I moved to Santa Cruz, and then to Merced, and then back to the Bay Area, I moved with the intention of leaving everything behind, of starting fresh. But you never can start fresh, because wherever you go, there you are. Your life story travels with you. Your relationships travel with you. There is no escaping who you’ve become.
This move feels different. This time, I want to move my whole life to Seattle. I want to bring everyone and everything with me. Because I’m not moving to escape – I’m no longer that girl. Instead, I am moving to move on, to experience, to gain.
And with ten days left to go, I can finally say, “I’m ready.”