For the first 17 years of my life I lived in one state, in one town, in fact. I forced myself to leave Manhattan, Kansas - though I loved it - because I feared that if I didn't leave, I'd never leave.
Since leaving in 1989, I've lived in four other states and two other countries. I think I can honestly say that I've loved every place I've lived.
My first trip out of Kansas took me 6 hours from home to Springfield, Missouri, to attend university at Missouri State University (then Southwest Missouri State University). Why there? Why not? They gave me a full-ride scholarship, the academic program that I wished to study was particularly strong at MSU and I was placed in the Honors College, giving me unparalleled access to the faculty and challenging coursework.
I loved Springfield. Loved it enough to stay for both an undergraduate and graduate degree.
Between my junior and senior year, I took a slightly bigger step away from home - I moved to Washington, D.C. to work for the National 4-H Council. What an amazing place to be! It was an Olympic year and the Capitol still offered fairly open access. There's just something special about being a young adult, living and breathing in the nerve center of American government. Where else can you trace Jefferson and Washington's footsteps nearly every day?
I loved D.C. I was completely hooked on politics and non-profits, and in love with the aliveness of the city.
After graduating from MSU with my M.A., I moved to Kenya. In truth, I was moving to Zimbabwe until I went to training for my new job and learned I was reassigned - nothing like learning flexibility on the fly. Kenya was, I don't know, life-changing. Full of self-discovery. An incredible opportunity. It was a defining time in my life.
I loved Kenya. I deeply mourned leaving.
Back in the US, I packed my few possessions and moved to Dallas. I have to confess that Dallas isn't my favorite city but I love the people here and the opportunities it holds. I also found the Love of My Life - not a bad thing at all!
I like Dallas. I love my job and I really love my husband, and they are both in Dallas.
Marathon man and I moved to Virginia for a few months, then on to England for a couple of years. England was everything I'd dreamed it would be. History, proper behavior, snarky humor and a celebration of intellectualism and slower living.
I loved England. I hated moving back to Dallas.
In all of this, though, when thoughts of going here or there creep into my mind, I remind myself of something my great-uncle told me during my Time of Great Sadness (immediately post-Kenya):
Shannah, you have to Be Where You Are.
And I guess that's what I've done. Everywhere I've lived, I've lived there wholeheartedly. It sounds very New Age-y to say this, but it's true: I've given myself to where I live and where I live has given itself to me.
So that's why I cry when I leave somewhere on the move to somewhere new. I'm not just leaving a place, I'm leaving where I've been. And part of me, I guess, is still there in each little house, each apartment, each city and each country. For the time that I was there, I was there.
I miss Manhattan and every time we go visit, we rediscuss moving back there. Sometimes very seriously. I understand the pain. Manhattan is the only other place I have lived.
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