In college I had been dating a guy for 2 weeks. We were falling hard and fast for each other, so I knew I needed to tell him before things got any more serious.

I planned on moving to the beach after I graduated. Specifically somewhere in North Carolina. I had known this my whole life. Before I decided this I had never even been to North Carolina, but that was where I was going. It didn’t have to be permanent. A 3-5 year thing to fulfill whatever had been calling me was my plan.

I braced myself for disappointment and let him in on the plan.
His response was, “That sounds like fun.”

And I smiled.

As fate would have it, my cousin ended up playing basketball for and going to school at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. That boy and I visited her on our spring break that year and we were both in love.

Wilmington was it.

I graduated, he graduated, we were married, and then after spending the holidays with our family, we loaded up a U-Haul with the help of his parents and headed south.

We stuck with the plan of moving back ‘homeʼ in 3-5 years.

Then we built a house and had a baby. And our plan became before that baby went to Kindergarten.

Then we had a second baby.

Then we found out we were pregnant with a third. And the plan became before the third baby came.

And then we bought a boat.

Then the third baby came. And every time we went to the beach as a family of 5, we realized we couldn’t imagine not being able to do this whenever we wanted to.

And we realized the word ‘homeʼ had shifted.

Having and raising kids away from family is probably one of the single
hardest things you can do as an individual. But there is something to be
said about doing it as a couple. We knew we only had each other to depend on with lifeʼs most important task in front of us, and Iʼd like to believe
that we are that much stronger because of it.

Through the years we have missed family gatherings, births of babies, and the comfort of family traditions. But as our kids continue to grow we realize how much we enjoy creating our own.

Iʼll never forget the feeling of coming home after a day at the beach early on in our time here and wondering if housekeeping had come. Bittersweet knowing it was my job to clean up the sand. I still smile every time I see a seagull in somewhere as ordinary as the Walmart parking lot. And I try to never complain about all of the sand in my car. I think of it kind of like postpartum stretch marks-an unsightly reminder of something beautiful. And today when I went somewhere and had to take off my shoes and sand fell out, I smiled.

That day that we arrived to our first home in North Carolina, we had an entourage of cars, including my Mini Cooper, my husband’s dream truck hauling his motorcycle, a U-Haul, and a van full of clothes (mostly mine). Fighting winter weather in Pittsburgh and then unpacking the next day in t-shirts in the south. That day was 10 years ago today.

A decade.

My husband no longer owns a motorcycle, and certainly neither of us drive our dream cars. We now have 3 extra humans and one less income. The things that mattered to us then have also certainly shifted.

Is it because life is slower in the south? Honestly, it’s hard to say. The world is so small these days. But there is something about Spanish moss on giant oaks, salty air, yes ma’ams, and macaroni and cheese as a vegetable that sits well with my soul.

And I am so grateful.

Grateful for a life in an amazing town, grateful for opportunities salt life
has offered us and our kiddos, grateful for everyone who supported us and
finds the time and makes the effort to visit, and grateful for the ability to follow through on something I said I would do since I was a child.

But most of all, I am grateful for that guy with the irresistible dimples, who agreed that this big dream of mine “sounded like fun” and made it his own. And together we made it ours.

Cheers to a decade of life in the south, and sandy toes any time we want them, yʼall.

Tagged southern living