Moving & Perspective

Moving... How incredibly grueling... Fun and exciting sure, but a true pain in the ass.

But traveling? That's much more exciting.

I’ve moved nine times in the past twenty-six years. And these aren’t the small moves, they were quite large. I’m talking cross-country, time zones, schools, you name it… I’ve done it. All but move abroad, unless you count my almost-two-month brief period in Greece for study abroad… but I don’t count that as a true move per se. Now, if we wanted to count the moves I made in the same cities, the list would be much, much longer. And if we counted the number of places I've traveled to throughout the US and outside, I'd run out of fingers and toes.

My second big move was in 2005. We picked up our family and left Franklin, Tennessee to leave and settle down in Los Angeles, California. I had just turned ten, and my brother was eight. It was a hot July and I was about to begin fifth grade. I remember crying in my kitchen six months prior shouting to my parents about how I didn’t want to leave my friends, school, extended family, and childhood home. It was painful, at the time, and for a while, I didn’t think I could forgive my parents for transporting us across the country away from everything we knew to a place my brother and I had never even visited.

But over time, we learned to love it. As we usually do.

My family and I moved into a house that used to be inhabited by Cher in the ’70s. And, let me just briefly say, Cher was my childhood idol so I was quite enthralled to learn this tiny detail about our new home. (And yes I will admit that I did in fact tape her last live massive performance for her Goodbye Tour on VHS in 2005. No judgment, okay?)

We rented the place. It was a one-story home in the middle of the Valley. There was a gate surrounding the property, as most LA homes have, and there was a tree in the front that had limbs mocking the shape of a tree straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. The living room had a massive stone fireplace and each bedroom had their own sliding glass door that faced a small pathway which circled the property.

In the backyard, there were grapefruit trees, lemon trees, and bushes with random berries that my mother told us not to eat. We played hide and seek in the “forest”, as we called it, and built a treehouse in that Dr. Seuss looking tree in the front yard. The homeowners weren’t thrilled, but they let us do it with some serious convincing from my parents.

We walked every day to my elementary school, even when it was raining. Occasionally, Mom or Dad would drop us off in the old Ford long bed pick up truck that my ‘uncle’ briefly loaned us, and we felt like royalty.

Although, I kind of enjoyed our morning walks to and from school. We’d walk with my Mother past the neighboring homes, two blocks past the liquor store where you’d see inebriated men passed out on the sidewalk, the grocery store where the elderly pushed their shopping carts all the way home, and parks where you could see kids trying to get the last few minutes of freedom in before they started their schooling. The scenes were always different, so incredibly different from our suburban neighborhood in Franklin, Tennessee. And my ten-year-old eyes were soaking every scene in.

Before I came to LA, my Dad actually hooked me up with a pen-pal. You know, those old-fashioned writing buddies that you’d write to via snail mail or email. And we eventually became friends. She and I were good buddies through my time at the Kling Street house all the way to when my family moved over to the apartment in Sherman Oaks a year later.

She was my first friend in California. I’ll admit though, it was a rough friendship. We were very different but bonded over our love for music, The Phantom of the Opera, and Avatar. (Yes, this is when you can out me for being a childhood nerd)

Unfortunately, over time we lost touch. But through the time that we were close friends and the years that followed, she taught me how to be open to new people, be welcoming to new experiences, and even adventures. The girl taught me how to be fearless, in a way.

And I’m quite grateful for that. If I had never learned this I don’t think I would have taken the leap that I did to move to Atlanta or even New York City.

You see, I’ve found that moving educates you invaluable lessons that you might not gain should you stay in the same area your entire life. It makes you aware of other people, cultures, statuses, and privilege. Moving teaches you how to make friends out of nothing. It teaches you to adapt and learn your surroundings quite quickly. Moving also shows you how easy it is to be ignorant and unaware of your surroundings, hopefully, better equipping you for future endeavors.

During my fifth move, we relocated to Kissimmee, Florida where I met even more unique people. I made friends who I still stay in touch with, attended art school, and even had my first (real) crush on a boy who I actually periodically still chat with from time to time today.

Moving to Florida introduced me to riding the bus alone, learning how to use charcoal and watercolor paint, first-dates, alcohol, the famous Wendy’s Frosty, and even more culture. I met so many incredible people who now have accomplished so many insane things in life at such a young age. And to be fair, the only reason I know of their accomplishments is that we’re all still Facebook friends.

I’ve found that even though I always kind of fear the thought of change and moving, as most humans do… because let’s face it, change is a bit scary… I actually really love it.

Changing your surroundings provides for such a unique experiment. You’re able to experience so many new obscure things, meet so many interesting individuals, and in the process, you learn a lot about the world and yourself.

Traveling cultures you in ways that I believe can't be explained. Through putting yourself outside your comfort bubble and venturing to a place you've not been to before, you challenge yourself.

You learn that the world is much smaller than you realize too.

For example, I had a friend of a friend who photographed my best friend’s wedding three years ago in Franklin, Tennessee. Through the years that passed, I moved to New York and discovered Rue-B, an incredible Jazz bar in Alphabet City on Avenue B that serves the best dirty martinis you can find south of fourteenth. At this Jazz bar, there was this incredible rising singer who had vocals rivaling the sound of Michael Bublé and Frank Sinatra. Just last year, I found out they were dating and in fact, still are today.

How insane is that?!

Here’s another example. A year after college I joined a co-ed softball team. Through this team, I met a friend who was briefly in Knoxville, Tennessee for a six-month rotation with his company. We stayed in touch and two years later after I had moved away to Atlanta, he contacted me and said that his childhood friend Maddie was on a rotation for optometry school in Atlanta and would be there for six months. She and I met for drinks, which turned into a weekly endeavor, and eventually led to us being great friends. Maddie helped me through a big breakup and encouraged me to apply to jobs in New York City. She’s since moved to Chicago and now Buffalo, New York to lead her own practice, and we still occasionally catch up from time to time.

You see, it’s absolutely wild how certain people enter your life for a particular reason, and I can confidently say that most of these people that I’ve met are due to the fact that I’ve been so mobile my whole life.

When I studied abroad in Greece, I met a woman who has turned into one of my very best friends over the years. Had I not taken the leap of faith to travel to Greece alone for that study abroad trip, I would have never met her. And thus, I may have never learned the valuable things she's taught me throughout the years.

On the flip side, moving has also made me a bit of a nomad. Until I moved to New York, I didn’t really ever feel quite at home.

Traveling from home to home, and city to city has left me a little apprehensive about settling down. I don’t have the desire to stay in one place for an extended period of time… which theoretically will probably be problematic in the long run… But I like to think that it’s also created a sense of wanderlust for me. And for where I am in my life right now, it works.

I want to meet as many different people, see as many obscure places throughout the world, and experience as many fun or boring things that I absolutely can while I’m alive. And there's so much more to see.

About four months ago, I bought the “Burn After Writing” (which by the way, if you're into self-reflection, I highly recommend this journal.) About halfway through the book, it asked me to describe one word that defined my life, and the word I chose was “moving”.

I didn’t just choose the word “moving” because I’ve moved my whole life, but I also chose it because of all of the experiences I’ve had. Negative or positive, all these experiences have been absolutely moving. I’ve learned, hurt, loved, laughed, cried, been frustrated, grown… and so much more.

All these unique experiences through traveling, literally, across the United States and outside, have humbled me. They’ve taught me to appreciate everyone in different ways. To appreciate people from every working-class, social class, race, religion, age, and even the occasional asshole who pisses me off.

One of the most educational experiences I’ve had thus far is meeting people who are close-minded. Now, close-minded people aren’t necessarily people who haven’t moved, let me make that clear. I’ve found that people who are close-minded tend to view life with a sense of ignorance and lack true compassion for others.

It’s quite hard to admit that you, yourself are close-minded, you see. But, let me tell you about an experience my friend told me about the other day.

There was a person she met a few months back who in social settings would ask a question and immediately look uninterested or distracted. They were incredibly charismatic and charming, and she found that this uninterested behavior was strange but immediately blamed it on their attention span.

But, what she found over time after spending a few dinners with this person, was that it was apparent that they simply thought they were better than everyone else in the room. They were never quite close, but what became so evident to her was that they would never give anyone that they perceived “lesser” than them the time of day.

I don't know this person but I would say it's safe to assume they would never admit this out loud. What an absolute tragedy it would be to live life like this. You see this person had never lived or traveled outside of his "bubble" and carried an attitude that portrayed ostentation, and I hypothesize that this will hinder them from truly connecting to people throughout their life in the long run.

Now, I’m not saying that living or staying in the same place your entire life will make you a lesser person, but what I think is pivotal to recognize is firstly how important traveling outside of your comfort zone is to open yourself to culture. And secondly, how important it is to give yourself a bit of a reality check. Check your status. Check your privilege. To get off your high horse and try to be a bit more open to new people, experiences, and places.

I don’t necessarily condemn this person for their lack of interest in the average conversation, but more so feel bad for them that their lack of perspective makes them… a bit close-minded and pretentious.

Why not be open to what other people have to say? Whether what they have to say is intelligent, relevant, or stupid. Hear people. Listen to them. Learn from them. It betters you.

Traveling and moving, both things, have taught me to do this. I try to do my best to be a good listener and consciously challenge myself to be more open-minded to things that might otherwise put me off. I'm not perfect by any means, but at least I'm doing my part in being open and accepting to the world around me.

All that said, this is just my opinion. Perhaps you don’t have the same one, and I’m open to hearing more about that if you’d like to share.

Today, living in New York City has given me the pleasure of experiencing so many different cultures and people in a one-block radius. And it’s made me check myself and my privilege. It’s opened me up to new people, experiences, and food. (But don’t even get me started on the cuisine… I'm obsessed with this little dumpling shop in Lower East Side called North Dumpling. If you're ever in the city, I highly recommend visiting.)

The people in this city, and the cities before this, have shown me so much. It’s so incredibly cool to see how many kinds of people there are in this world.

The guy who lives below me is from Australia. The woman who lives in the building across from me is from Oklahoma. My old boss is half Mexican, half Italian, but born and raised in Australia as well. I have old friends from college who live in this city, other acquaintances who were born in this city, and new friends from the UK who studied in Israel that visit from San Francisco every few weeks who I’ve only known for three months.

Moving has introduced me to a world of perspective. It's made me travel more. It’s changed the way I approach conflicts, choose friends, listen to others, start my day, accept jobs, and more. And the best part is, I'm not done yet. I will continue to try to educate myself on the world, its people, and the amazing things that make everyone on this planet so unique.

So, if you’ve made it through my entire moving / travel word-vomit, I hope this has inspired you to open your worldly perspective. Move. Travel. Whether it’s for two weeks or two years. Safely during the global pandemic, or after.

I’m no expert, just a girl working in advertising who happens to really enjoy traveling, making new friends, and learning more about the world. I just hope that this might inspire you to get up and move. Give yourself some change of scenery and meet new humans. It might teach you a thing or two about people and yourself.