I moved to a smaller city for a lower cost of living. My money goes much further, but I’ve been struggling for 2 years.

It was Friday night, and I could’ve been biking a nearby trail or visiting the local bookstore. Instead, I was sitting in my Iowa City apartment scrolling on my phone.

I passed a video of hundreds of people gathered in Memorial Union Terrace for live music, a photo of old friends clinking margaritas at a Mexican restaurant I used to love …

As I saw more posts from my community back in Madison, Wisconsin, I felt a pang — not of jealousy, but something closer to grief.

It hit me that I’d now lived in Iowa City for two years and hadn’t made a single friend.

As rising rent costs pushed me out of Madison, I set my sights on Iowa City

I first moved from Green Bay to Madison for college when I was 18. It became my home for the next three decades — a city where I fell in love, became a mother, and had some of my greatest joys and deepest sorrows.

I hadn’t thought much about leaving until about two years ago, when my aging apartment’s lease was up for renewal. For the fourth year in a row, my landlord wanted to raise the rent.

I was living with my partner and splitting the bills, but we were planning to separate within a few months. To make matters worse, my temporary position as a project manager was nearing its end, further tightening my budget.

Technically, I could’ve endured the increase, but barely. I didn’t want to be one bad month away from the edge.

Getting a different apartment in the area wasn’t much of an option either, as Madison renters were dealing with rising rents and an affordability crisis.

As I began thinking about relocating somewhere with a lower cost of living, Iowa City sprang to mind.

I’d first been there years ago to attend a reading at its Prairie Lights Bookstore. Nestled in nature, the city was beautiful. It resembled Madison, only sleepier and smaller.

As a freelance writer, it also seemed like an ideal place to continue my career. Iowa City is home to the prestigious Iowa Writers’ Workshop and is a UNESCO City of Literature.

When I compared apartments between the two cities, I found that rent in Madison was consistently higher than in Iowa City. Yet in the latter, the units were newer with better amenities — and cost nearly half as much.

For every apartment I loved in Madison but couldn’t afford, there were several in Iowa City that were even nicer and well within my budget.

A few months later, with the help of friends, I packed everything I owned into a U-Haul, secured my cats in their carriers, and made the three-hour move to Iowa.

Though I was saving money by living in Iowa, I began to feel disconnected and isolated

My new home was a two-bedroom, two-bath condo in the Iowa City area near a wetland preserve.

It had what my old place lacked: a washer, dryer, dishwasher, central air, and even a fireplace. My rent would be $1,120 a month. In Madison, an apartment like this would be at least double that amount.

The move gave me some breathing room, both financially and emotionally. Many of my bills were lower, and everything in town that I needed was close by, so I rarely had to refill my gas tank.

Since I was spending less, I saved more — enough to visit my daughter in Europe, which was incredibly important to me.

Without the constant worry of skyrocketing rent, I felt less stress and more peace.

I loved setting up my new home and exploring the neighborhood. I attended book readings, explored a few churches, and spent time in various cafés and shops.

Though I was friendly with people, months passed without my forming any real connections. By the time the depths of winter arrived, I started to feel especially isolated.

Two years passed, and I still hadn’t made friends. I looked into attending local meetups and joining a Bible study group, but at that point, I was already talking myself out of Iowa City.

Then, my argument became: If I wasn’t planning to stay, why start something I couldn’t finish?

It took me years to realize the problem might be my mindset — not my new city

Recently, I spent a weekend back in Madison visiting a friend. It was only my second trip since the move, but something surprised me: My behavior was vastly different.

I was outgoing again — striking up conversations with the owner at my old favorite coffee shop, chatting with people at the neighborhood festival, and even making small talk with a stranger outside a store.

It dawned on me that I wasn’t like that in Iowa City.

I’d been blaming the city for my loneliness, but that wasn’t fair. It hadn’t failed me; I had been holding back, hovering around the edges of a life I hadn’t fully stepped into.

After all, wherever we go, we take ourselves with us — our habits, histories, and ways of connecting. In Madison, I had grown into my community over decades.

I mistakenly assumed relationships would simply appear in Iowa City, underestimating the effort required to make connections in a new city, especially as a middle-aged woman.

So, I revisited that Bible-study group and, this time, signed up to attend the next meeting. I also made concrete plans to check out several local writing groups.

It’s a first step. If I want connection, I’m going to have to reach for it. If I want to belong, I need to show up.

I don’t know whether I’ll stay in Iowa City forever — but, for now, I know I haven’t given it a real chance just yet.

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