never not long-winded
Just over six months ago, I made a cross-country move and returned to education, but this story started years ago. After they moved here for grad school in 2020, my best friend predicted that I’d move to Seattle—a place I’d been just once for an afternoon, as a quick pit stop on my way elsewhere. I dismissed the comment and didn’t believe them, but after visiting a year later, I was sold. Every career move I made since then, from earning an associate’s degree in UX to leaving teaching for marketing, was in service of that dream. After dozens of applications across multiple fields, I’ve finally landed in Seattle—and, surprisingly, back in education.
This hasn’t been the easiest season of my life. Transitions are always hard, even if they’re the result of a dream. I miss my midwestern people every day. Meeting new friends as an adult is weird and difficult. Navigating a new city and region after living in the same place for almost a decade is sometimes exhausting. I miss Lake Michigan and Vernor’s and Aldi. But I can see the mountains from my neighborhood park. I love having time to listen to books and scroll on my phone while commuting by bus. I discovered a love of ceramics and have already made new friends along the way. I’m happy at work. Most of these things are so small, but they’ve added up to a pretty good life so far.
Throughout the last few years, whenever I’ve tried to explain the “why” of it all, I just say that I get along with myself better out here. Not a perfect explanation, or one that makes any logical sense, but it’s the truest way to put it into words.
The job market is painful right now, and education is not the easiest field to be in these days, so I know I’m one of the lucky ones. This is really just a long-winded way to say I’m grateful. So many things had to align for this to happen—from stumbling upon a job I knew I’d enjoy (shoutout to LinkedIn) in the city I wanted to move to, to a smooth and comfortable interview process, to the luck that St. Thomas School took a chance on a learning specialist they’d only ever met via Teams calls.
And even more importantly—my people. So many helped me tend to this “Seattle dream” for literal years. I could not have done any of this alone, and it is such a gift that I never had to question that I had so many people in my corner, both near and far. And now, at work and at home and in ceramics class, I get to add even more people to this remarkable collection of humans. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Six months in, and the gratitude continues to grow.
