Small Towns

Small Towns are great, I love them, they are the perfect size for this introverted blogger. I grew up in a small town, made even smaller since within that small town I was part of an ethnic enclave of dutch immigrant farmers which made up my school and church community.
I love the small town I grew up in.
I love that I don't need google maps to figure out where I am going.
I love that the streets are in a grid pattern rather than a confusing twisting subdivision so if I miss a turn I just have to go around the block.
I love that I know where to go if I need groceries, clothes, medicine, dutch treats or a good bakery.
I love that I know where the good hiking trails are if I want to go for a walk, and that the beach is only 20 mins away.
I love that my Grandma and cousins and family are close by.
I love that the streets aren't crowded and people actually know how to drive.
I love that I don't feel claustrophobic, or overwhelmed or intimidated by the streets, people or driving.
I like that I don't feel self conscious about going for a jog when the inspiration strikes.  
I even don't mind waiting behind a tractor, or the smell of freshly spread manure.

There are many things I love about the small town and community I grew up in yet for some reason I still am not very excited about moving back there at the end of the week.
Maybe it is because I like the independence of living on my own.
Maybe it is because I feel a little like a failure having to move back in with my parents since I don't have a job.
Maybe it is because I hate moving and packing.

Or maybe it is because my hometown isn't really home anymore. I grew up there and I love the place, but I haven't lived there for 5 years. I have been there for visits but I haven't lived there. I have roots there, but I also have branches that reach far beyond my hometown and small community. I have friends scattered all over the country and even the world but I don't have any close friends back home. The people back home know my family, they watched me grow up, some of them went to school with me, others taught me or changed my diapers. But they don't know me as I am now. They may have known grade school or high school me. But they do not know me- an independent, intelligent, individual young woman. Instead they know me as "one of the Kuiper girls" or "Mark and Alice's daughter." They know me as the nerdy girl from school, or the goody-goody who actually loved catechism class, only listened to Christian music, and never drank or danced. They don't know the me that likes kayaking, swimming, hiking, camping, drinking wine, listening to good music and dancing on occasion. They don't know that I make delicious lasagna, homemade bread, and strawberry pie. They don't know that even though I am terrible at it I would love to play a game of soccer, Frisbee or volleyball. They don't know me and I don't know them (I am sure they have changed in the past 5 years as well.)

I am scared/ hesitant/ unexcited about moving home since I am afraid I will be really lonely.

It should be easy to go home and strike up a conversation and  get to know them once more- after all we have a shared history. Yet something inside me feels that it would be way easier to move somewhere else, where no one knows me and start over. It is easier getting to know someone when there isn't a pile of shared history, past impressions and old memories to climb over before you get to who they are now. Getting re-acquainted with someone involves overcoming all that- which is much harder than getting over a stereotype, bad first impression or misjudgement. When they already have an idea of who you were it is much harder to introduce them to who you are. Yes, moving somewhere else and starting fresh would be a whole lot easier. But my present circumstances do not afford me that luxury.