Newness

If you've found your way here, most likely you know me on other social networks and from a very special community. I'd like to maintain my anonymity here, and would request that you not link this blog to my other blog or other networking sites. I will read and comment as my previous blog persona, but this space is to be fully honest and open about all aspects of my life - with no fear of IRL family or friends reading. I started my other blog thinking it was a good idea to be so open and honest with everyone in my life, but ultimately it gets complicated, doesn't it?

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Living in a small town is hard. I mean, I grew up here. Or rather, I went to four years of high school here. I know people. But I know them as my high school self; as a self involved goodie two shoes who was going to graduate and never come back. I looked down on those who stuck around or who eventually ended up back here. Why would you come back - what was there to attain here?

Of course I was just biased against Smalltown (as I'll further call where I live). I had no problem with other small towns. After marrying Hotness and living on the West Coast, we decided that living in a small town would be ideal. We would do large scale gardening, raise some chickens and other assorted animals, and live sustainably.

I just never ever ever thought it'd be in Smalltown.

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MyStar died, and I couldn't give a fuck about sustainable living. Anxiety took over MySon's pregnancy, and I didn't have room to think about reintroducing it back into our lives. And then the job in Smalltown opened up. It was more money, better benefits, and a much more financially stable scenario. The cost of living in Smalltown is staggering...incredibly low. Our mortgage for a three bedroom/two bath house is less than what we were paying for a one bedroom/one bath apartment in Bigcity. Everything pointed to it being a very positive move for our family.

The biggest drawback I had was that my mother and her third husband, and my maternal grandparents all live in Smalltown. My mother thinks that we are best friends, when in fact, were are very much not. My grandmother is incredibly emotionally sensitive, which my mother also inherited. Being snarky and taking things personally is expected. Living on the West Coast made it easier to deal with. But living in the same town? A giant weight was lowered onto my shoulders just thinking about it.

But we moved hoping for the best. We set some ground rules about them calling before stopping by, and not expecting us to go to the same church (we don't go anywhere actually) and that we are separate family entities. My mother has tried to "fix" my faith, and would probably be mortified if she knew my full hippie beliefs. Hotness tries his hardest to not interact with them if possible. He's amiable when around them, but as he said the other day, "I didn't move here to be friends with your family."

I also have realized how small minded it was of me to think that people who moved back home were of such a lowly nature in comparison to myself. Maybe I only say that because I'm here now.

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I'm happy here. Hotness is finally getting into the swing of his job and he seems somewhat happier. But I'm also lonely. And sad underneath the happiness too. All the people I know are older. The people my age are all the kids who were mean in high school, or new transplants who already have their friend groups.

I have made a lot of effort to try and make friends though. I've invited people over. I've invited them to the library kids gathering. The only reciprocation I've gotten is a girl from high school who talked maliciously about one of my best friends when we were in high school. Her youngest is 10 days younger than MySon, and she has a 3 year old too. I invited them over for a play date, and we've done several other things with them, and have a weekly play date set. Who'd have thought it would have worked out? I was so damn determined that people know I had changed from 10 years ago, and I didn't give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe they had grown and changed too. Some don't of course, but even then, it's endurable to hang out with them for an hour or two at an event or whatnot. There are several other women I've tried to get to know, but there is just no interest from them.

I miss my friends in Bigcity. We finally found some people who really got us. There was a great art scene that I was a part of. But MyStar's death also hovered over everything.

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I don't know how people live near family. It's such a cold hearted thing to say, I know. I have visions of fun sunday brunches or evenings playing games...in creating family traditions. But it never works out that way. My reality is very different. It's difficult and excruciating at times. It could be easier, but I'd just be swayed to be as my family wishes I was, instead of who I really am.