From as early as 15, I envisioned a life beyond my hometown of Maplewood, Kentucky. While it was a serene and picturesque place with genuine people, I felt an insatiable urge to escape.
It wasn’t a matter of discontent; Maplewood had its charm. But I yearned to explore beyond its two stoplights and discover my true self, free from the expectations of those who had known me since childhood.
There’s something transformative about leaving your roots. As soon as I turned 18, I packed my bags and never looked back. Occasionally, I hear updates about the town—there’s a new café, the school got a facelift, and property values are on the rise. It seems to be thriving, looking more inviting than ever. But it feels like a place I could never call home again.
Perhaps it’s the weight of memories that keeps me away. I believe that remaining in the environment that caused you pain can hinder true healing. Just the thought of visiting the farm where I grew up, which was taken back by the bank, sends chills down my spine. It reminds me of my childhood horse, Luna, and the long hours I spent alone on that sprawling 100-acre property.
The white cross at the bottom of the hill, a marker for a classmate who tragically lost her life, brings back memories of a freshman year filled with heartache. Four classmates left us too soon, and that year was particularly harsh. I remember feeling abandoned and isolated.
Passing by the old car dealership where my high school crush used to work brings up feelings of guilt for how I ended things. As a mother now, I reflect on how my middle school principal dismissed my experiences with bullying, which infuriates me even more.
I don’t want to revisit that past. I’m focused on the future, and sometimes moving physically is essential for mental recovery and growth. I want to embrace the best version of myself, not the 18-year-old or even the 21-year-old I once was.
After a few adventures, I finally found a place that feels right. I’ve discovered my community, and it’s been beneficial for me and my family. Most people I knew back in Maplewood have stayed. They remember who I used to be, defined by family ties and a troubled past. They had no idea about the struggles I faced.
The person I am today is a far cry from who I once was, and I’m incredibly thankful for that transformation. If you ever feel stuck or uncertain, I encourage you to take the leap. You might find that moving away propels you forward or even leads you back home. You can always return, but you’ll never know what awaits you on the other side of that county line unless you cross it.
Maplewood may not have changed much, but I certainly have.
For more insights on starting a family and navigating the journey, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy from Healthline or explore the offerings at Make a Mom. If you’re interested in home insemination, you can find more information in this post about intracervical insemination.