One of the best things about going to Montana is just that – going. The idea of it is freeing. I imagine the new places I’ll see, people I’ll meet, and memories I’ll make. I daydream about the way a new city is going to feel. Local trails, new camping supplies, and ideas for weekend trips fill my search history. It’s a paradise to think about going.
This move is the fruition of a multi-year dream. I’m embarking on the largest move I’ve ever made, not just because of the distance, but because of all the hopes, dreams, and possibilities it holds. I’m not moving because of a job or because it makes sense, but because it doesn’t make sense (at least not for my career in finance).
It’s my first extreme life change made purely because I think it will make me happy… I didn’t know how rare choices like that are in adult life.
There’s just one thing: going means leaving, and a lot hurts to leave behind.
Leaving means I can’t drive 8 minutes to my parents’ house for dinner or attend the events my friends and cousins put on. Leaving means ending the lease in the first apartment I ever really enjoyed. It means losing the view of my hometown’s skyline and my favorite restaurants.
Leaving is tough when you’ve built a good life for yourself.
The difference between leaving and going portrays the complicated duality of moving away: being excited for what you’re gaining while mourning what you’re losing.
Leaving Versus Going
I wouldn’t normally make an entire blog post about semantics, but it’s important. There are two sides to moving on: the things you hope to gain and the things you may lose. It’s an innate and necessary part of change – after all, are you really changing if you’re not leaving anything behind? Each new experience means the death of an old one, and that’s good.
Iowa is home to me, but it’s also (sorry to throw shade at you, Iowa) boring. My current job gives me a stable income and good benefits, but it also has a stifling and toxic top-down culture. There are reasons why I don’t want to live in Iowa anymore, and there are reasons I want to leave my job and try something new. But, those changes aren’t made in a vacuum.
Change comes with a butterfly effect that affects things I don’t want to change. I wish I could take my family, friends, or my favorite happy hour deal with me, but I can’t. Some things can’t be isolated from my decision and instead become collateral damage.
It’s important to remind yourself of what you’re leaving behind just as it’s important to remind yourself of all the amazing possibilities a change will offer you. It’s possible to be both excited to go and sad to leave, it’s even more important to honor the things that make moving so exciting and painful.
Leaving.
As I gear up to leave, time is of the essence. How can I prepare to leave while giving adequate attention to the people and places I love? The last thing I want to do is leave without saying goodbye.
Even though I wish Des Moines had mountains nearby, that doesn’t mean I won’t miss the prairie. As I ride my bike through local parks and trails, I cherish my favorite fields and wildflowers, knowing that I won’t see them for a while.
Of course, my most cherished memories made here are with people. My parents, much of my extended family, and plenty of friends are here in Des Moines. If I’m ever feeling down, or if I want to liven things up, I know I can call them, and at least one of them will pick up the phone. That network of closeness is going to fade away. Yes, I hope I’ll find replacements but, for better or worse, it’ll never be the same. And that stings.
Going!
The Otherwhere Project is an ode to “going”. It is a reminder that, at times, to go is to live. That’s a beautiful thing. Yes, leaving can be bitter, but a new adventure brings endless possibilities, and that’s worth the pain. It’s worth the risk.
Moving to Montana wasn’t a decision I made for money. I wanted a life dictated by happiness, not profit. I saw too many people give up their dreams for an illusion of stability and vacant purpose. People I loved gave up so much for jobs they didn’t even like simply because they thought it would deepen their pockets.
I’m not saying I’m making the perfect choice, but for the first time in a while, my professional and personal life excites me. This adventure is giving me possibilities unlike anything I’ve done before. It is exhilarating and honestly, it feels like the fruition of many years of preparation and hard work.
It’s a daunting idea to stomach, but it’s thrilling all the same. It makes me feel like I’m 18 again, going to college to do something new and exciting with my life.
Unpredictability sounds scary, but it feels better than knowing exactly how the rest of my life will go: a life filled with fluorescent lights, business-casual attire, cubicle farms, and an occasional glance out a window to remind me that I wish I was somewhere else.
I’m excited about all there is to gain on this adventure, and for all the possibilities presented by the simple fact that I choose to go, not stay. It’s scary, yes, but in a good way. Like the nervousness you get before walking across the stage at graduation or the feeling you get before a date.
I’ve learned to trust myself and my abilities. I think I like my chances.
Learning to Balance the Two
It’s healthy to acknowledge the positives and negatives of a big move. You can both be sad to leave and happy to go. It’s all a part of change.
It’s also important to know that change isn’t permanent. My life in Des Moines wasn’t permanent, and this move likely won’t be either. I’ll come back home, move to another place, and travel more in my life, no matter what path I choose to walk down. Some people view life’s impermanence as a downfall, but I choose to see it as a benefit.
I remember when I moved to North Carolina for a year after college, I fell on some hard times. One of the most important phone calls I got during that time was from my mom. She reminded me that being “trapped” is just a feeling, not a reality. If I wanted to ever leave Charlotte and go somewhere else, I could. I could sell my furniture, break my lease, and find a new job. The worst-case scenario was that I would lose out on a bit of money- money I was willing to sacrifice for happiness.
It was comforting to know that my move was just as permanent as I wanted it to be. That applies to any future move as well. I know I’ll never truly be trapped where I live. I can always choose to leave the things that don’t benefit me and go to anywhere else I find beautiful.
I’m leaving for somewhere exciting and one day, I’ll leave that place too. This fact reminds me to focus on the present and not be so scared of the future. My future path isn’t decided already, so it’s best to encounter it with excitement, curiosity, and gratitude.
Be Excited to Go, but Cherish What You're Leaving
I’m so lucky to come from a supportive family and to have a friend group who only wants the best for me. I’m lucky to have people and places around me that I’m going to miss. It’s nice to have something exciting to return to, and that luck is not lost on me. However it is time to go, at least for a bit.
I’m spending the next two, three, or however many months of my life away from home. The emotions I feel, both the good and the bad, are how I know I’m doing something big, something worthwhile. It’s why I’m so excited to go.
As I spend my final week in Des Moines, I’ll be sure to soak in all the memories I can. There will be hard times in Montana, but knowing I have those memories to keep me warm will make those hard times so much easier.
I’m not afraid to experience the full spectrum of my trip – both the leaving and the going. It’s all a part of doing something big – a part of finding my Otherwhere.
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