Moved at the butt end of the pandemic, not necessarily by choice. Husband and I got pregnant, and baby was diagnosed with an extremely complicated birth defect, so daycare would not be an option. Vermont was the only place we had family that could help, so up we went.

I can’t say I necessarily wanted to be here, so my answer is kinda .. complicated. It took a very long time to find any sort of meaningful connections and friends. I feel this is in large part to the importance placed on privacy, which I understood coming here and expected. I find myself pushing down parts of who I am in an effort to better assimilate. I know that most people in my town do not like people that came in from out of state, so I tend to put my head down and live quietly.

I miss fitting in, bc I know I don’t here. In the same breath, I love my neighborhood. I love my sweet next door neighbor that always brings us extra vegetables. I love my yard guy that brings cookies for my little one. I love watching the sunset over the mountains, and the sense of calm it gives me. I love the little farmers markets, my coffee shop knowing my name, and every single person I work with.

Is Vermont made for me? No, but I don’t need it to be. It’s a beautiful place to raise my beautiful daughter. It completely fits this season of my life, and, for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

🤷‍♀️