🌾 Moving Away- Adventure Awaits

March 4, 2026

Have you ever been labeled the wild child? The irrational one? The one who “just does things”?

As the middle child, I’ve worn that label well. The wild one. The one who moves to the beat of her own drum.

But like we talked about in the last blog — “wild” is often just code for decisive, for someone who makes a choice and follows through. The irrational label usually comes when you move without asking permission… especially from fear.

So let’s talk about rational and irrational. About moving coast to coast. About leaving home.

My experience is my own. Everyone’s is different.

I technically moved away from home before I was even 18.

Okay — that’s dramatic.

My birthday is in July. I graduated in May. I got accepted into the summer freshman program at Florida State, and my dad shipped me off at 17 in June. I turned 18 a few weeks later.

But still.

I never fully moved back home after that.

I got married in college. While my husband was deployed, I finished school. By the time he returned and I graduated, my first job took us to St. Pete — a city neither of us had ever visited, despite living in Florida for years.

So there we were.

A new baby.

A husband.

My sister (my best friend).

And an unfamiliar coast.

We drove the back roads of west Florida nearly every weekend trying to stay connected to South Florida. Being close but far felt harder than being far altogether.

Eventually, it became exhausting.

So we stopped running back to the city we left and started investing in the one we lived in.

Every time we visited “home,” I felt it — something had shifted.

We were different.

We weren’t 15 and 16 anymore. We were parents. Adults. Building something.

Still, the pull of home was strong. Especially with a baby. So I transferred to Palm Beach — not Broward, but closer.

And that’s when it became clear.

We had changed.

Different rhythms. Different priorities. Different everything.

So not long after… we moved to Decatur, Georgia.

Now let me ask you —

Are you staying close for safety?

And does that safety quietly limit your possibilities?

Does that mindset lower your resilience?

Staying close to family has beautiful benefits. Help with kids. Holiday flexibility. Less stress about leave requests. No flights. No rental cars. No “free99” expenses stacking up.

But excitement mixed with fear? That’s healthy.

Fear alone paralyzes.

Excitement moves you.

Though excitement without wisdom can lead to unrealistic expectations. You’re excited… and the lights still have to be paid. Insurance is due. Kids and dogs still need to eat.

For us, Georgia was hard.

And while I’ve never loved the phrase “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” (sometimes it feels like trauma bonding dressed up as motivation)… there is truth in stretching.

We were one of the first in our families to move out of state with kids. There was no nearby safety net.

So we became one.

We learned to rely on each other. To build friendships that turned into family. To create our own traditions.

We saw snow for the first time. Took day trips to Chattanooga. Walked through the German festival in Helen, GA.

We bought a five-bedroom house… and all slept in one room.

My husband earned his bachelor’s and launched his career.

I advanced in mine and traveled as a trainer.

We got passports.

Left the country and traveled.

Learned not only to enjoy our own company — but to protect it.

Georgia days

Five bedrooms.
One room we actually used.
Because when you’re building something new, sometimes closeness feels safer than space.
And that’s when I learned —
home isn’t square footage.
It’s who you pull close when everything feels new.

We left the sunshine for something unknown.
And God sent snow —
like proof that new places hold new magic..

At some point, we stopped running home and realized…

We were home.

Georgia gave us first and second houses. Another baby. Milestones and maturity.

It also gave us a robbery. Homesickness. Pollen attacks. The constant juggle of work, school, and childcare.

Because life still lifes — no matter your zip code.

We’ve been back in Florida for ten years now. Not back “home,” but in Central Florida. Slower (at the time), more affordable, about an hour from my sister-in-law and a few hours from everyone else.

Disney after work on a random Tuesday. Fireworks for no reason. Beaches in 45 minutes.

It was a vibe.

And as someone who believes in reasons, seasons, and lifetimes…

That season is closing.