Moving In

Most of my life I stayed put.

I didn't jump houses as a little girl, even though my dad was in the military.

Sometimes it felt like a constant roadtrip, as we traveled to and from Maryland every weekend to visit my dad. I spent my childhood traveling on long summer vacations, even if most of the year we were in one spot, I felt comfortable in the car. I always sought the comfort of the backseat.

Then as a teen, we stopped. No more traveling. No more summer vacations. We were stationary in the least pleasant place possible. Small town, Texas didn't sit well with me. I wanted to get out. When I finally escaped to Boston for college, I stayed put again, forced out of my dorm room at the end of the year. Packing and unpacking, living out of boxes and never feeling fully settled.

I thought I would finally feel settled when I moved in with my boyfriend (now fiancé), but his Beacon Hill studio was cramped and when we moved to find more space, I felt isolated. Despite living in the same apartment for the past four years, I've never felt comfortable. It never felt like home.

So now we're moving again. We're trying to find our new space. Maybe a place to call home. Maybe just another place to stay put till we decide where we belong. Either way, I know I'll feel comfortable in the backseat on the way over.