Struggling in a New Place and the Comfort of Home
Moving away from our hometowns, for most of us, is more a feeling of obligation than a desire. We tend to look negatively upon those who stuck around and never left. For some the motivation to stay is purely out of comfort, grounded in fear of what’s outside. Others merely want a life of simplicity, and they’re not wrong for it.
The comfort of home is often better than feeling out of place or purposeless in a strange region. Sure, comfort comes with safety, and that safety can inhibit us from progressing forward. Remaining stagnant or regressing is easy when you’re in a safe place. With that being said, fear in a new land doesn’t necessarily drive personal progress. Fear does breed change, although it’s not always positive.
The debate between struggling somewhere new or remaining in place of familiarity depends entirely on who you are as a person, and where you are in terms of being in touch with yourself. Some of us can pursue ambitions and find happiness where we grew up. The rest of us have no opportunity at home. Not all of the latter are ready for a drastic change of scenery, however.
In many cases a change of scenery is only that. We delude ourselves into thinking a shift of setting will spur advancement to a better life and more self-contentment. The excitement upon arrival to a new place fills us with visions of all the success and joy that’s to come. Unfortunately, that initial excitement is sometimes all we really wanted. The first day or 2 of the move brings about the same exhilaration as a vacation. You’re somewhere very different in which you don’t fully belong. Stressors and people from your previous location seem no longer existent. Everything is foreign to what you’re accustomed to; therefore it’s all neat and invigorating. The big move is an escape in the very beginning.
What follows is either grim or encouraging, depending on what you make of it. The sense of exhilarating getaway soon fades, and in creeps the real world. Life is back and calling you to be productive. You’re the same individual you always were, with the same passions, demons, skills, and setbacks. Your surroundings are overwhelmingly new, and that’s about it. This may strike you as a fresh start. It very well can be, but it’s all up to you. After all, you’re still you.
An addict can relocate thousands of miles from where they began using and soon end up in the same hellhole they fought to crawl out of. A recent college grad can leave their lifeless town in the hopes of putting their degree to use, and soon find themselves working retail or waiting tables for an unsettlingly lengthy period. Recovering addicts and alcoholics insist on the change of “people, places, and things” to better yourself. It’s the right incentive, but it won’t do any good when you’re completely lost regardless of your surroundings.
I write this as a person who made a spur of the moment cross-country move while I wasn’t fully in tune with myself, or sure of what I was doing. My circumstances are unique, but sure to hit home with a few. A month after graduating college I had no choice but to leave home. My mother’s Alzheimer’s was rapidly progressing and my father urged me to find a new city. Getting out for was for my mental well-being, and seemingly the only route to achieving dreams. Without any sense of reality I applied exclusively for jobs in New York and Los Angeles. My oldest sister, who lived in Denver for 7 years, suggested I just come out there with her. I decided upon Denver after little consideration, from a point of sheer desperation.
Within the span of a month I graduated from a university in Pennsylvania and moved to Denver, Colorado after never having seen it and not knowing much about it. The out-of-the-gate anticipation was unreal. This state was unlike anything I had ever seen or experienced. The air was drier, the clouds were closer, the buildings were newer, the streets were cleaner, the sun was brighter, and best of all I could see mountains no matter where I was. Denver, though smaller than Philly or New York, struck me as a place I could find success (and myself in the process.)
The vacation phase never fully ended. I was working meaningless retail jobs, plus isolating and avoiding reality as I had prior to relocating. My sister left Denver several months after I moved in, which brought me to a particularly dark place. She was the only family I had there. She was the sole reason I came out. Then she was gone, and I’ve asked myself everyday since what exactly I’m doing here. People hit me with that inquiry constantly and I’m never quite sure what to tell them.
My current situation could be drastically different if I had first delved deep into myself and fought to change before I left home. The transition in setting did nothing but excite and terrify me. As depressing as I’m making this sound, it did cause essential character building. Throughout my time here in Denver I’ve lost weight, hair, and money. I ruined a solid chunk of sobriety and began a new daily battle. I’ve isolated to the point of several mental breakdowns. In the process I’ve grown to be a stronger, more self-aware individual, though, and I suppose that’s of sovereign importance.
Furthermore, I’ve gained a great deal of insight to share with anyone who’s in a remotely similar situation. Whether you’re at home dying to move or terrified in a new place, I’d like to offer a bit of reflection: The only aspect of Denver keeping me here is the fact that it’s not home. I feel I’m inherently accomplishing something by not living in my hometown, despite my failure to progress career-wise or achieve a substantial period of sobriety. I’ve convinced myself working retail and not enjoying life here is preferable to being in the same position at home.
Remaining in a place for that reason alone is nothing but detrimental. Denver is a gorgeous cool city, but there’s nothing for me here. It’s an ideal location for a lot of folks. With outdoor activities alone there’s an endless slew of stuff to do. I’m as far as one can get from outdoorsy, though, and there are plenty of people who would appreciate this world more than I do. Perhaps they would make the most of it as I’ve consciously neglected to do.
There was opportunity for me here, but I refused to seek it out. I got myself into a bit of a mess, which fortunately brought me to a vital realization. Familiarity is what I need right now. Slight comfort, but not too much — Just enough to help me lay a solid groundwork. If you’re stuck in a familiar place I urge you to search within yourself before deciding on escape. If you’re away from home, scared and void of direction, I suggest you consider whether staying is best for you and for the right reasons. You don’t want to suffer in an uncomfortable atmosphere simply because a return to familiarity strikes you as a “Retreat.” Sometimes a trek back to what you’re accustomed to is exactly what you need to move forward. It’s not regression, nor does it warrant a feeling of shame. It can be the strategic move we need to better ourselves. After all, we’re ourselves regardless of where we’re living. We can make the most, or we can suffer. Either way we’ll learn a little something.
