Friday, September 23, 2016

Eleven Years A Chicagoan

Tomorrow, September 25th, marks my 11th year living in Chicago.  I moved to Chicago on September 25, 2005 - 5 weeks after having open heart surgery.  I was nervous (read:scared) and count it as one of the braver things I've ever done.

In 1995, I had moved to DC when I was 29 years old.  My whole life seemed to be ahead of me.  It was easy to take on an adventure, then.  I formally adopted my nickname as my everyday name because I thought people would think I was interesting and would want to know more about me.  I could "re-create" myself into someone who was more outgoing, more fun, even more adventurous.  That's easy to do when you are still in your Twenties.

But at 39 years old, I was far more apprehensive and unsure and didn't care for a gimmick that would make me interesting.  Mix in with that a rocky medical situation as well as no job prospects and I think anyone would be uneasy.  It took me just over two months to get a job, which is laughable today when I think about how I've since gone 5- and 6-times longer than that.  I was worried, then, that I might actually have to move back home as a result.  But it's amazing what we can accomplish when we just accept our situation and take the first steps forward.

Still, I found it difficult to adjust to living in a different place.  I no longer had my familiar group of friends around me; there was only Ashley and this new guy, Kevin.  Ashley and his brother were busy opening up Hamburger Mary's in Andersonville, and Kevin . . .  well, I wasn't sure what was happening with him.  I had just ended a relationship in DC before moving (perhaps a contributing factor to my moving in the first place) and was certain that I didn't want to start anything with anyone new, especially in a new city where I needed to make friends more than I needed a boyfriend.

In DC, I had an identity.  People knew me there, they knew my jeep, they knew who I dated, they knew where I worked, where I socialized, where I worked out.  DC is small; everyone knows everything about everyone.  That's the truth.  It's surprising that a town built on secrets really houses very few of them.

It took some time for me to find my footing in Chicago, but find it I eventually did.  Little did I know then that Kevin would eventually become The BF, and then my husband and that we'd buy a house and travel the world together.  In that 11 years of time, I've lived in 5 places here  - 2 with Ashley and 3 with Kevin - and had 5 jobs.  Ironically, the exact same number of residences and jobs that I had in the 10 years I lived in DC.

In hindsight, these past 11 years have been perfect.  I wouldn't change a thing.  I love looking back at my life to see how I've grown. And I do so again today.

Thank you, Chicago, for EVERYTHING!!

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