In December of 2016, I decided to pack up everything I owned, and moved from North Eastern Pennsylvania, to Kansas City. I was 26. I had never been to Kansas City before. I found everything through the internet, reserved my appointment, and received the keys in the mail.
It remains one of my top 5 life long decisions.
Having been here for almost a decade now, I’ve had the chance to meet so many awesome people, and try so many things I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do in my hometown. There just weren’t that many options. I do hear from some friends that it’s changing for the better, and other friends still lament your options are alcohol or heroin for a past time.
Most of my oldest, and closest friends still live back east. Some of them are content, and thriving, while others are just on a continuous downward spiral of doom and gloom. I tell the second group all the time to leave. Of course, I tell them how awesome KC is, but beyond that, I just tell them to pick a mid-size city off the map, not the Chicago/LA/NY/Dallas cities, but the lesser talked about ones, Cleveland, Milwaukee, Raleigh, etc.
Much to my chagrin, they won’t leave. Can’t leave. On the other hand, I won’t go back. My home is in the Midwest now. I have a house with a yard. A garden. Community.
I get the hesitation, the fear of the unknown, but I wish they’d do it. Get out and see something other than the same 50 square miles of drunken depression.
Maybe someday they will. Maybe someday you will.