I heart Portland

Here it is, friends! All bloggers do it, and now I'm joining the ranks by writing the inevitable anniversary post. Yep, that's right... today is the one year anniversary of this blog. It's also been just over a year since we packed up and moved ourselves across the country. So, today is a time to pause and reflect. Based on this reflection, I will, of course, be drawing conclusions and making assumptions about myself and the great city of Portland. I'm going to do my best not to get all sappy on you, but just in case I do (and let's be honest, I probably will), I'll apologize in advance. But I know you'll cut me some slack because you're loyal friends.

I don't think I ever told you why we decided to move, so here it is: I was miserable at my job, and I was ready to leave Nashville. I lived there for 20 years, and I wanted a change. Actually, I was ready to move a long time ago, but it's the sort of thing you have to build up to, make plans for, wrap your head around, etc. I never made it a big secret to my friends and family that I wanted to try living somewhere new and different for a while. I always said, "I don't want to be one of those people that never leaves." Some people are happy with that, and I don't judge them. I'm just not one of them. And, the truth of the matter is, I knew that it was very possible I would move away, hate it, and end up right back where I started. But, at least I would know. You know? No regrets.

Justyn moved to Nashville from San Francisco in 2002. I was ready to move then, but then we started our relationship and he had already just moved across the country, so it wasn't really an option. We fell in love, bought a house, got married, (yes, in that order), and things were great. We worked together, so leaving would have been hard... because we would both have to quit together. But things were great for a while, so we waited. Then I started to get really miserable at work. Like, so miserable that I was physically ill most of the time. Justyn was still happy with his work, but since he knew first-hand the drama and politics of what I was dealing with, I think it tainted his work experience. He knew I wanted to get out of the South, and after 5 years, I think he was ready too. So, he put his "feelers" out (as he likes to say) and soon got a job offer in Portland. That very same day, I had a disagreement with my boss and had come home and immediately typed my resignation letter. I was quitting, whether we moved or not. That much I had decided.

The job offer came in the evening, a couple of hours after I had written my letter. I'm not fanatical about such things, but I do believe that fate pushes you in a certain direction sometimes, and the coincidental timing wasn't something I could ignore. A string of similar "coincidences" followed, and after having several tearful discussions with my parents and close friends, we decided to do it. It was time.

I've mentioned several times before that moving was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I think that all depends on the person, and where your head is. We have some friends that moved here around the same time we did from the east coast (the guy also got a job in Portland) and they were miserable. They barely lasted a year before leaving. The difference? I don't know. I was ready. I was itching to leave. I wanted to like it here. So, that whole thing about life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it? I think it's pretty true.

It's taken right at one year, but I finally have some friends. Not many... but a handful. And that's all I have ever really had. I'm one of those people that would rather have 5 close friends than 50 acquaintances. My new friends here are great. Of course, we're still getting to know each other which will take some time. But I think most of them have great friend potential. That being said, there are times when we are surrounded by our new friends, and a wave of emotion washes over me and I miss my friends in Nashville. It's like, everyone in the room is laughing about something, and I just pause, and look around, and realize that there is a glaring omission in the room where certain people should be. The same thing happens with family. Justyn's dad came to visit for Father's Day this year (the first Father's Day I've not spent with my dad EVER). We had some family from Seattle down to visit, and it was fun, but it just didn't feel quite like it ought to, you know? My dad was missing.

And so, this is the way it goes. I think it will always be that way, though. No one will ever replace the friends I've had for nearly 20 years. Maybe that's all homesickness is... I guess I don't really know. I guess I had mental pictures of myself curled up in a ball in the corner of my new apartment, bawling my eyes out because I wanted to go home. That, of course, never happened. Maybe it's different for everyone. Maybe it's just different for me.

My homesickness comes in whispers and quick pulses of yearning. It comes when I least expect it. It's a flash of emotion, sort of like your stomach sinking when you realize you've forgotten something important. Then you remember it, and the feeling goes away. It happens sometimes on the bus to or from work, when I look around at all the strangers and realize that no one here knows me. It's lonely, but it's liberating. Maybe, as time goes by, the flashes will become more regular, and that's how I'll know it's time to go back. Maybe they'll fade, and I'll know I should stay. Maybe this is how it will always be.

So, here I am. Writing a blog. I never thought I would be a blogger, and I worried that I wouldn't be able to keep up with it. I started it as an outlet for me to cope with all the changes I was going through. Then some of my friends and family in Nashville started reading it, and used it as a way to keep up with me... with what I was doing. Then some of my new friends started reading it. I don't know why... maybe to get to know more about me, maybe because I can be funny and interesting sometimes. Now a whole bunch of people I don't even know read it, which I never expected. It's fun, and I like it. Sometimes I don't have anything interesting to say at all, and I want to tell you thanks for reading it anyway during those times.

And, so what about Portland? Well, after a year of being here, I can honestly say that I really like it here. I don't love it yet, because I think that kind of thing takes time. If I had just come to visit for vacation, and someone asked me if I'd been, I would say, "Portland? Oh, I've been to Portland. I love Portland." But loving to visit a place and loving to live there are two very different things. There's nothing I hate about it. The weather is great (no matter what anyone else says), it's beautiful everywhere you look, the food is amazing, there are tons of things to do, and I have a job that I love.

I feel like a different person here. A better person. In Nashville, I always labelled myself as kind of boring, a little bit high strung (easily stressed), extremely shy and quiet, and generally exhausted. But I referred to myself as "shy" the other day while at a barbecue with some of my new friends, and they laughed at me. They said, "You? You don't seem shy." I was taken aback, honestly. I've always been shy. I guess Nashville Stephanie is shy, and maybe Portland Stephanie isn't. I don't know... I can't explain it. All I know is that I feel more laid back, more outgoing, healthier, happier, more active, and I have more interests and hobbies than ever before. That, I think, is the true test of a relationship, whether it's with a person, a job, or a city. If it makes you better, then it's a keeper. And so far, Portland is definitely a keeper.