Sometimes you move to a new town and just like that — you know you are home.
The moment you step out of the little plane and inhale this pulp mill-infused air, you know for a fact that this is your place. It does not matter that the winter here is cold and dry, and your eyes get itchy every summer. You start living every day, falling in love with new things, people, and events; you belong, you wear it proudly on your sleeve, and silently roll your eyes every time people complain that your town is boring: no, they are boring. You have this deep connection with the land, and you know well where exactly to find fun.
Sometimes you move to a new city; global, beautiful, diverse, where seemingly anyone can find something to enjoy. You push hard, you know it’s the time of your life; so you pick up the best job possible, get your own little place, purchase a bike, and wait for the happiness to show up, but it just does not. The mountains seem too high, and the ocean is too deep. You feel guilty that the shiny blooming spring does not lift your mood. “I’ve been told I’ll be happy here, so why am I not?”
It does not always take one day, one first step, to fall in love with your new place; sometimes it does not even take one year. It can become an exhausting journey, but in the end, it will only bring you closer, since you have been put through the grind together.
It takes patience and strength.
If not – you can always leave.
But come on, give this place another chance.