I wanted a fresh start halfway across the country. Ten words from my grandma gave me the courage I needed to move.

• In my 20s, I was stuck in a Midwestern city I didn’t want to be in, missing life on the East Coast.
• I thought about quitting my job and moving, but some people in my life were skeptical.
• My grandmother told me I should do what makes me happy, and I followed her advice.

In her 103 years on the planet, my grandmother has accumulated plenty of wisdom, but she keeps most of it to herself.

If I were in my 10th decade of life, I’d be holding court constantly, dispensing advice to anyone who would listen. But my hunch is that my grandmother, whom my extended Southern family affectionately calls Mema, doesn’t want to be presumptuous. (Apparently, humility isn’t genetic.)

Every so often, though, she’ll share an insight so unexpected — and so on point — that it shifts something inside you, edging you closer to the version of yourself you want to be.

I still think back to one thing she told me over a decade ago that changed the course of my life for the better.

I felt stuck in my 20s and dreamed of a life on the East Coast

I moved to Washington, DC, right after college, and the city quickly burrowed into my heart with its 19th-century buildings, passionate people, and intellectual hum.

Though I loved DC, I left after a few years to get a master’s degree in journalism in New York City and later landed a reporting fellowship in South Africa. Then, the 2008 financial crisis struck, which seemed to just put an already struggling journalism market on life support.

Jobless, I moved back to my hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana, to live with my parents and eventually found work at the city’s local newspaper.

I was gaining valuable reporting experience, building up my savings, and spending time with friends who gave me some of the funniest (and booziest) nights of my life — but I still felt stuck.

Fort Wayne was a good place, but it wasn’t my place. That title still belonged to Washington, DC.

After four seemingly endless Midwest winters and countless cover letters aimed mostly at jobs in the capital, I got an idea: What if I quit my job and moved back with nothing lined up?

When I floated the plan to my parents, they were skeptical. I was torn.

Then one day, driving home from an interview with a prominent newspaper in Chicago, I called the last person I wanted to run the idea by: Mema.

My grandmother’s opinion was something I truly valued

My grandmother has lived the kind of life I hope for — long, purposeful, and joyful — so seeking her advice seemed natural.

A Cajun woman of understated elegance, Mema lives independently in a spotless Texas home filled with mementos from her travels, family photos, and her own paintings.

She’s lived through the Great Depression, World War II, 9/11, a painful divorce, and the deaths of far too many loved ones. And yet, she rises each day to weed her garden, feed the squirrels, fire off a few emails, and get something brewing in the kitchen. She’s on Facebook, learning French on Duolingo, and still refining her painting skills.

When she answered the phone, I gave her the scoop: I’d just had a promising interview at a paper I admired, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it. Maybe it was finally time to make the 600-mile leap back to D.C.

I paused, nervous for her verdict. What had all those years taught her about balancing risk and reward, about stability’s tug-of-war with yearning?

“Sounds like a great idea,” she said, almost giddily, in her barely Southern, old-world lilt. “Do what makes you happy.”

Her advice gave me the confidence to trust my intuition

After those 10 words, I knew what to do.

The scales tilted toward possibility, and a month later, I packed up my belongings, said teary goodbyes to friends, and set out on a road trip back to Washington.

I moved into an apartment with a close friend from graduate school, quickly landed a journalism job I was excited about, and eased back into the city’s familiar, soothing rhythms.

Fifteen years later, I’m still here.

I followed the listen-to-your-heart ethos, married an Argentine teacher, and stayed in the journalism industry. (We’re not rich, and the industry is far from stable, but I am happy.)

DC remains a center of gravity, but I have others now, too — including two (mostly) lovely kids.

If my children have children, and I’m lucky enough to know them, I hope they’ll seek me out when they’re wrestling with a big decision.

Whether by phone, hologram, or whatever they’ll invent next, I’ll tell them to trust their intuition, just as a wise woman once told me.

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