For a long time I felt like I didn’t belong in Chicago. I didn’t go to a Big Ten school. I didn’t enjoy spending the day drinking beer and watching sports. The Chicago hot dogs, pizza, and Italian beefs made me overweight and bloated. Even when I started to love the city, I didn’t want to admit it. I was in denial that my husband’s favorite city in the universe was also mine.
When I lived in Chicago, I craved forests and mountains and the ocean. I craved diversity and new experiences. For the past two years, our move to California gave me what I asked. From where we lived in Berkeley, I was amazed that we were a 15 minute drive from beautiful hikes in the Redwoods. I loved all the different choices in delicious Asian food. I loved that we could take day trips to the beach and to wine country. For a time, I was happy to escape our old lives in Illinois.
What I didn’t love about living in the Bay Area were the high living costs and long commutes. It took us both over an hour to get to work, and it felt like most of our paychecks were going towards rent. I missed all the space we could afford in Chicago and how convenient it was to move about the city.
But the biggest driver of moving back to Chicago was having a baby. The minute I found out I was pregnant, Chicago tugged at my heartstrings. It’s time to go home and nest.
