I Moved Back to my Hometown in my 30’s.

This may have been a bit of clickbait. Did I make it sound like I moved across the country then made my way back? I didn’t. I would never. I am the definition of a h o m e b o d y.

I DID, however, move to the town over. I know, I know. Not far, BUT you have to cross a bridge. Does that make it sound further? A small bridge but a bridge nonetheless.

I didn’t think it was a big deal either, to be honest. Seven years ago, when I moved out of my hometown, I was like, “eh, no big deal, I’m moving so close,” and honestly, that’s how I felt the entire time and even recently. Until I moved back. I don’t know if I came back as an adult or that I am now a mom or if it was the bridge I had to cross to get here, but I came back with so much more appreciation for this little coastal town.

My hometown is filled to the brim with New England charm. We went to high school in a building so beautiful; architecturally, they have tours on the weekends. When I would drag my tired teenage angsty self to school, I would only focus on how I didn’t want to be there. Every day when we went from class to class in marble hallways, through historic auditoriums and beautiful craftsmanship, my eyes were hyper-focused on finding my best friends and boyfriend. On the weekends, when my friends and I would sit on any of the numerous beaches we could choose from and have bonfires or sit on lifeguard stands into the night and laugh, I never really took in the scenery or felt gratitude for where I was.

Fast forward to 30 (something) year old me moving back to my hometown, and I am just so grateful for it. I am so thankful I got to grow up here, and now, I can rest my head here for a little bit with my family. When my husband and I take the baby for walks its so fun to walk by places that hold so many childhood memories. Chris always listens as I tell him stories about growing up (or at least he looks like he’s listening), and it makes my heart happy to relive them.

Our town is sleepy and friendly. It’s full of young families and older folks walking their dogs and children playing in their yards. When the wind blows, it smells like the ocean, and the streets are so slow we don’t have to walk on the sidewalks. At the top of the hour, a bell tower disturbs the silence and lets you know the time with a little tune. The houses are full of old charm and character, and everyone always says hello with a smile when you walk by them. Just down the street, you are at the water where fishing boats are docked across the bay. There’s a sense of security here that I forgot existed.

I never really soaked any of that in before because I was focused on getting out and moving on.

It’s funny how time can make you appreciate something differently. I am so glad my path took me back here with eyes wide open and a heart full of gratitude.

P.s does this make me a townie? OWNING IT.

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