Growing up, all I wanted was to leave my rural hometown of Edenton, North Carolina, behind and move to a big city.
Alongside a population of less than 5,000, Edenton has one big grocery store and a downtown that really just consists of a single short main street.
Almost every bar and restaurant closes by 10 p.m. on the dot, and it feels impossible to walk through town without seeing a familiar face at least every five minutes.
I was tired of small-town living and craved a place full of exciting experiences, trendy restaurants, professional theater productions, and high-profile events — all things I’d never found where I grew up.
At last, at 23, I made it to one of those big cities I’d dreamed about when I moved to Chicago to pursue my master’s degree in journalism.
As I packed my bags, I swore I’d never return to my rural roots and I didn’t even think I’d miss them much. It turned out I was wrong about both things.
As much as I loved living in Chicago, I couldn’t make it work
When I arrived in Chicago, I immediately fell in love with the city’s energy.
I couldn’t believe all the opportunities available in just one place. I felt like there was always something new to try and I could do whatever and be whoever I wanted.
Every weekday, I took classes in a high-rise overlooking the Chicago River. At least once a week, I had dinner at an extravagant restaurant with my friends, and sometimes followed it with a visit to a local cocktail lounge.
The first year living in Chicago was a whirlwind full of completing school assignments and building friendships, and I loved every second of it.
After graduation, a lot of my friends dispersed across the country, and I was balancing multiple part-time jobs. Suddenly, the city didn’t seem as glamorous as when I first arrived.
It had been a year after I finished graduate school, and I still couldn’t find a full-time job in Chicago, making living in one of the most expensive cities in the country that much more challenging.
It was then that I actually started to miss my hometown, too.
So, after two years in the city, I made the difficult decision to move back home to live with my family.
Each box I packed felt like giving up on my big-city dreams. I was worried about how different my life would be when I returned to my small farming town in North Carolina.
Would I feel lonely? Would I make any friends? Would I regret this decision? Would I be letting my younger self down?
At the very least, I told myself, I wouldn’t have to be home for long.
My plan was to just stay with my family for a few months, apply for jobs in other big cities until I landed one, and then go back to living my dream.
Spending time with locals made me fall in love with my hometown again
Shortly after I returned, I began freelancing for local newspapers, where I constantly got to speak to Edenton residents who thought this place was the greatest in the world.
While on the job, I learned what was most important to the people of the area, including state bills affecting shrimpers, ginormous bulls showing up at downtown gatherings, and historical reenactments held on Constitution Day.
Although some of the local events and concerns felt niche and sometimes made me laugh out loud, bearing witness to people showing their deep love for this part of the world cracked open a small part of me, revealing that I loved it too.
All the pride I never realized I had for my hometown got even stronger once I landed a job at the local public high school — the same one I’d graduated from seven years ago — and witnessed firsthand how dedicated the community was to this place.
I couldn’t believe the place that raised me was full of so much dedication, loyalty, and affection. And, as weeks passed, moving out of my small town again didn’t seem so appealing after all.
I’m back where I started, and I couldn’t be happier
After six months at home, I realized I didn’t want to leave, and I don’t know why I was in such a rush to do so when I was younger.
Don’t get me wrong, rural North Carolina is no Chicagoland, but my days here are still full of events, socializing, and great food — just on a smaller scale.
I’ve started to appreciate seeing familiar faces everywhere I go. It feels nice knowing how much of their hearts and souls they give to making Edenton the best it can be.
The days fly by, and I fall into bed exhausted most nights.
In Chicago, I had fun. But here, in a smaller place close to my heart, I feel whole. I feel like what I do and where I am matters even more, and I’m genuinely the happiest I’ve ever been because of that.
So, here I am. Back where I started, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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