One year ago today, my girls and I boarded a plane to Dallas, Texas. My husband had gone a week earlier with the dog and had already started to work. We were to meet him at the baggage claim of Love Field. One year ago, I said “see ya later” to the Midwest – my home for all of my life. To be honest, I have very mixed feelings about today. A lot can happen in a year. And on the flip side, a lot can remain the same.
Upon landing and walking off the plane, I was assaulted by breath catching heat. If you’ve never been here, it’s hard to explain. My husband picked us up and drove us straight to the closing on our house. I was excited for our new home, it was much larger and newer than our last home and after being “homeless” for a month, I was ready to settle. Our sellers opted to rent back from us, so we’d be living in yet another hotel for a few weeks.
The very next day, my husband left for a work trip and I was left with two small children and a dog, all cramped in to a one bedroom hotel room. We explored as best we could – in the mornings of course, before the heat of the day threatened our lives. These were the days that the dread set in. I wasn’t going to be boarding another plane to go “home” ever again. Each time I went back to Chicago from here on out, it was just to visit.
Those first few months I let the dread take a hold on me. I sent my best friends countless texts about how much I hated Texas, missed them terribly, and would do anything to move back. I gained weight. I didn’t sleep. I felt drained every single day. My poor husband saw more tears in the past year than he ever had before in our twelve years of knowing each other.
Somewhere around April, things began to change a bit. I’ve met some great people – people I text with and hang out with. A fabulous gym motivator and, more importantly, friend. I’ve gotten in to the routine of being a stay at home mom, and have come to terms with the fact that I have to plan in advance when I’ll see my friends and family.
“They” say it takes one to two years for a new place to feel like home. My truth is is that Dallas will probably never feel like my home. There are things I’ll never understand (the size of bugs, the heat, the strange roads along the tollways, among so many others). But for now? I’ve accepted that this is where we are meant to be right now, and it is completely up to me to make the most of it. I could continue to bury myself in a hole of feeling sorry for myself – OR – I could find something good in every single day, no matter how small.
And that, my friends, is a beautiful place to start.