A
little over 12 years ago I moved to Northern Virginia. I had been living and working in the Boston
area when an opportunity opened up to move here and work for a Senator from
Wyoming. My plan was to move down here
and stay for a year or 2, then get a good job in Colorado and move back out
west. That way I could marry a good
western man, have western kids, and live a western life.
1 ½
years after moving here my colleague asked if she could set me up on a blind
date. I agreed, and 2 weeks later I was
introduced to Joe. After a whirlwind
romance we were engaged and planning a wedding.
Choosing where to have the wedding was a no-brainer for me. I wanted to get married here, in Virginia. And so it was.
Fast
forward 12 years and we have established roots.
Virginia is not only where we were married, it is where both of our
children were born. It is where we
bought our first home (or rather, where the bank owns our first home). It is where we have built a life
together. While there are days that I
get annoyed with the traffic, or get frustrated with the high cost of everything…at the end of the day, living
in Northern Virginia just feels right. A
lot of people don’t understand it. Most
of my own family members don’t understand it.
But it all comes down to one thing…after 12 years, Virginia is home.
Recently
there have been 2 events that happened that proved to me that it is official…I
am a Virginian.
1) A
woman and I were talking. During the
conversation she asked me, “Where’s home?”
My first thought…HERE! When I
responded she looked confused, “So you grew up in Virginia?” My response, “I grew up in Wyoming, but Virginia
is my home.”
2) I
was talking to a family that is living here temporarily. In our conversation they mentioned that they
haven’t really enjoyed living in Northern Virginia. I tried to be understanding and hear where
they were coming from, but inside I was completely offended. How could you NOT love it here? What’s not to love? Look at all the awesome things around
you! Of course I didn’t say any of that,
those were just the thoughts in my head.
But it was another sign that Virginia is where my heart is. Of course a piece of me will always love the
west, but I know that Virginia is where we are supposed to be.
12
years is a long time. Our townhouse is
exactly 2 miles from the apartment I lived in when I first moved to the
area. We are 1 mile from the apartment
we lived in when we got married and 2 blocks from the townhouse we rented when
Ella was born. Everything I need is
within a 3 mile radius. I can get to the
mall, grocery store, favorite restaurants, doctor and church all in under 10
minutes. Ella attends the neighborhood
school just 3 blocks from our house. I
love our street and know all of our neighbors.
I can tell you the best place for Mexican food, Hibachi, Chinese food,
Italian food and hamburgers. I know the
quickest route to the movie theatre and can tell you where to avoid during rush
hour. This is my neighborhood. My home.
Virginia.
1 comment:
I do understand your feelings! Home is where the heart belongs. You do not have to feel offended! Sometimes people are really cruel and do not think before they speak.
Post a Comment