{This is a guest post by my sister Ceara Donnelley.}
A few months ago, my younger sister Ceara (a.k.a. Sister C) and her family moved from NYC to Charleston, South Carolina. Ceara and I are very close and I miss her a lot. I was thrilled when she said she’d write something to publish here. What follows is that (wonderful) something. {Happy fifth anniversary, C & N!}
Five years ago, in a South Carolina turkey field dotted with hay bales and swarmed by sand gnats, I married N. We could not have chosen a better setting for our wedding; four years earlier I had invited N to the family property in which this field sits for a week of turkey hunting, designed to dispel his impression that I was all city girl. It worked. Within 24 hours of his arrival, N met my father, bagged a turkey, crashed a suburban, and snagged me, pretty much in that order. I’d like to think I went into this week with my eyes wide open, but at 20 years old I wasn’t thinking about husbands. I wasn’t worried that this boy would take me from—or from me—another place woven into the very fabric of my being: New York.
In retrospect, I should have known. He was a hockey player from northern Minnesota who grew up hunting deer and ice fishing (ice fishing!) for walleye. He drove a beat up red pick-up truck called the WT. I was attracted to N precisely because he was so unlike the boys I knew from Manhattan. After college, N followed me to New York, and I found myself lulled into the fantasy that I had successfully transformed this country boy into a city-dweller. He still had plenty of country in him, but in many ways he became a natural New Yorker. He could weave in and out of pedestrians like a native; he always knew exactly where to stand on the subway platform to make his trip as efficient as possible (a trick I never mastered); he was fine with takeout every night. When we got engaged, we struck a deal. N could live in New York as long as we spent as much time out of New York as possible. A country house was mentioned, and later bought. Frequent trips to South Carolina and Minnesota were a given. I thought we were good.
But we weren’t. It became clear somewhere along the way that our New York life wasn’t working for us. There are so many reasons why—I could write a post on each one of them—but I think all of the reasons come back to a simple fact: this New Yorker fell in love with a country boy.
***
At some point in our first year or two of marriage N started whispering “Charleston,” in a laconic southern drawl, whenever I complained about something. “I’m tired.” “Challlston, babe. Challlston.” “I’m hungry.” “Challlston, babe. Challlston.” “I don’t know what I want to do with my life.” “Challston, babe. Challlllllston.” It became a joke between us, a pipe dream promise of a panacea that could fix all of the imperfections and frustrations of our lives, both separate and together. Then sometime in the third or fourth year of our marriage, he started saying it. “Charleston. Let’s move there. Let’s go.” I acknowledged the possible benefits of living there: (somewhat) cheaper real estate, natural beauty, a calmer life. But still, I demurred. My reasons for doing so shifted and were a moving target: They hate northerners there. I don’t drive. There are no good schools (we had welcomed Baby Bulldog to our world by this point). I’m a New Yorker. We can’t just decide to move there. What am I going to do there? It’s too hot. It’s too pretty. I’m a New Yorker. My family is here. My sisters are here. I’m a New Yorker. I don’t drive!
But even as I recited (and sometimes shouted) this litany of reasons not to go, I knew the biggest reason to go: we weren’t happy in New York. I could be happy in New York, I knew, but N couldn’t, and that meant we couldn’t. Finally, N broke me down, and we reached a tentative agreement—if he could find a job in Charleston that would be a compelling career move for him, I’d try it. I thought I was golden; jobs aren’t easy to come by these days, and Charleston isn’t exactly a hub of industry. It is, though, a bit of a hub in N’s industry—land conservation—so I shouldn’t have been so cavalier with my promise. Last January, he got a job offer here. He made it happen. I was out of excuses.
So, fast forward a few months, and here we are. Though at least half of the people we’ve met down here are recent transplants from northern cities—New York, Chicago, Detroit, Seattle—the ones who aren’t want to know why we moved. Why Charleston? I mumble and stumble through my explanation—“Oh, my husband got a job here, but also lifestyle reasons, and I grew up coming down here, but we’re just trying it, it’s a trial, we still have our place in New York, ummm, errr, hmmm.” But the real answer is this: I love New York, but I married someone who doesn’t. I married a country boy, a country boy who is willing to live in a city (I’m told Charleston is, technically, a city), as long as he can be in the country in an hour or less and at least a few times a week. New York wasn’t working for us. I had to choose: my marriage or my city. I chose my marriage.
The jury’s still out on how Charleston will treat me—so far, so good, I’m happy to say. But one thing has become clear in the almost-three months we’ve been here: N’s happier, and so we’re happier. It certainly isn’t the panacea we pretended it might be, but I can envision a wonderful life for us here. I can even get really excited about that life—until I think about New York. It’s tricky to articulate what I am feeling about New York. I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would, but I am, somehow, mourning its loss. Not the loss of the life we had there; have I mentioned that we weren’t happy? But I am mourning the loss of the life I might have had there. In truth, I sometimes think wistfully about the life that Aidan has there, because let me tell you, she has New York living figured out. But the reality is that I made this choice nine years ago, when I fell in love with my country boy.
Now my job is to fall in love with Charleston. Can you love two cities equally, but for different reasons, and at the same time? It doesn’t work with boys, but it might with cities. I think so. I hope so. We’ll see.
***
Have you made geographical leaps because of the relationships in your life or in pursuit of greater family happiness? Do you live where you were born and raised? Are you more of a country or city creature at heart? Would you like to see more of Ceara’s (beautiful) words here on the blog?
Ceara,
I can’t tell you how much it means to have your words here today. As I said in my tiny prologue to your piece, I really miss you and all of you guys and think I am still steeped in denial that you have actually moved. On some level, this makes it very real; seeing it in writing that you have gone and are – in wonderful Donnelley fashion – grappling with the big life questions that have come with your transition.
Anyway, thank you. I do hope this is the beginning of many CGD musings here.
Love you,
A
A,
Thank YOU – as usual, you have paved the way with hard work and well-deserved success, and here I am just riding your coattails
It is a privilege to be able to write for ILI and I feel lucky to have the benefit of your vast, and very thoughtful, audience. Next time I’ll make sure my post doesn’t go up on a crazy day when I barely have the chance to come up for air, let alone respond to all of these wonderful comments (though I am going to try, now).
Looking forward to catching up in person this week
I’m bringing a surprise with me to NYC …
Love you,
C
I think this is an absolutely wonderful post!
I still live at home, in upstate New York in a very not city at all. I am most definitely a country girl at heart and am not sure that I could really handle a real city.
But I definitely think you can love two places equally (and at the same time). Especially if it’s for different reasons. And, honestly, it is the people that are with you more than the place you are – in my opinion. New York will always be important, but if N wasn’t happy, C wouldn’t be fully happy either. But Charleston can be just as important and just as happy.
Best of luck in Charleston, C!
Thanks, Elise! I think you make such an important point: On some level, it is really the people whom we are with that make us feel most at home. I also like to think about Ceara and my parents who came here to NYC from the midwest and made this place their home. There is something compelling about starting fresh in a new place. Obviously, I am not doing that, but I can certainly see the appeal.
I love this. Skill with the written word obviously runs in the family. I can commiserate with the flip side of things. I grew up in a town of about 600 people (yes 600, no typo), and after graduating from college in Montana, promptly moved my “young 20s, I-need-an-adventure” self to Denver. By no means the busy hub of Manhattan but I loved it. I loved my studio downtown, take-out whenever I wanted it, and walking to my office down the street every morning. After moving back to Montana (to our biggest “city” of 100,00), I still mourn a bit for my time in Denver. Even though I was away from everyone and everything I knew, it felt adventurous and exciting. Hopefully Sister C feels that same excitement and sense of adventure in her new “city”. You’re brave, C. These grown up decisions are by no means ever easy but again, I love this.
Emily, adventure is exactly the word I used to describe our move to incredulous friends and family who couldn’t believe we were actually moving. It has been one, certainly, and I hope the adventure takes new twists and turns as we continue to settle in and start enjoying all that this place has to offer. Thank you for your kind words!
This is so interesting. My sister married a country boy, too, and after a few years in New York, they decided that the city just wasn’t working for them. My other sister and I still live here, and sometimes I wish they were still here. The only live an hour away, so I really have no right to complain, but there’s something about having your sisters all in one city (within a two block radius much less!) that is such a blessing. I used to say sometimes, as we’d be walking down the street, “I feel like we’re in a movie: three sisters in the city.” And the truth is maybe times like those are meant to be ephemeral. Maybe our lives are meant to lead us in different places, but somehow always leading back home, even if only in a metaphoric sense. I’m not married (yet!), but I always wonder what it must feel like to be creating a new family, to have a man who you love so much, a relationship that matters so much, that you’re willing to leave the people and places so close to your heart. And maybe that’s the point, too, that your sisters and your city are so close to your heart that they’re with you always, wherever you go.
Thanks for this post. It’s beautifully written, and it made me think.
Laura, did you by chance watch that TV show that was on a few years ago – on the WB, I think (is it CW now?), about four sisters who live in NYC and whose mom had died when they were little? I think Jennifer Esposito was in it. Anyway, I LOVED that show (though my complete inability to recall its name may suggest otherwise), precisely because I felt this weird kinship to the characters, sisters navigating different stages of adulthood in NYC, all together. It helped that they all had insanely cool apartments of varying styles (hippie UWS garden level floor-through, sleek midtown condo, charming Brooklyn townhouse, etc.). But I digress. The point is that there is something magical about braving the big city with your built-in best friends. And there is no question that having my family, my sisters, there to meet up at moment’s notice, is what I miss most down here. But you are right – they are in my heart, and luckily only a short plane ride away (one I am taking tomorrow at 6 am, in fact!). Enjoy NYC with your sisters, but allow yourself to meet a man who might take you away from them – I am sure that it will all work out for you, as (I think) it has for me.
Absolutely loved this post. Ceara, I am incredibly thankful that you fell in love with my cousin and joined our family. From a Minnesotan’s perspective, I was a bit surprised that N fell for a city girl (because, let’s face it, he was all-country back in the day). But clearly, as you pointed out, a city mouse and a country mouse can make life work no matter where they are. *Cue “All you need is love.” A bit cliche, eh?!
I’m glad N showed off his impeccable driving skills (right away) by crashing the SUV…I remember riding on a 4-wheeler with him through the woods – watching my life flash before my eyes…writing the newspaper headlines as tree after tree narrowly missed wiping me from the face of this earth.
Thanks for sharing your heart. Thanks for falling for my country boy cousin.
Love,
Megan
PS – Now, whenever I create a “wanderlust” list, I include Charleston…!
Oh Megan, I am thankful too. I didn’t mention it in my post, but such a great part of falling for N was getting his amazing family – and Minnesota – in the process! On the driving skills, I must defend my husband – though he did crash the suburban he will be the first to tell you it was NOT his fault, and he hasn’t had so much as a fender bender since
But he is an intense driver, that is for sure. We’ll see if the South slows him down!
Please do come visit soon – we have our guest room (aka Baby Sister’s room) ready and waiting for you!
This post really struck a chord! I can totally relate. I’ve been living in South Carolina (Columbia) for a little over two years now. I grew up in the North and relocated here from St. Louis. I moved here for my first “big girl” job, straight out of grad school. I pouted for three months saying things like, “it’s too hot”, “I miss ethinic food”, “everyone drives so slow” and thinking I’d stick it out for two years and then hightail it back up to where I belong. And then one day I realized that South Carolina is actually a very pleasant place to live. I’ve met so many nice people, and what’s funny is that the majority of them are northern transplants just like me. I still get North-sick every now and then but most days the positives definitely out weigh the negatives.
Best of luck to Sister C in South Carolina. I’m sure she’ll REALLY love it come late February and March when it’s sunny and warm every day
It is so nice to hear about another northern transplant who is loving life in South Carolina! You’re right – so many of the people we’ve met here are from northern cities, and much of them came for the same reasons we did: a different lifestyle and proximity to a beautiful natural landscape. I must say, I am starting to like it much, much more here now that the humidity has dropped and the default weather is sunny and in the 70s
I love what you say here. Since getting married, I have found myself in the same situation, but reversed. I grew up in Pittsburgh, PA, a place that is by no means a small town, but is definitely not New York. When I moved to NYC for law school I figured I would be here for 5 or so years, and then head back towards Pittsburgh. The universe had other plans for me when, in my second year of law school, I met my now husband who was born and raised in New York City. He likes to go to Pittsburgh with me for long weekends, and to the country on occasion, but it is New York City that pulls at him. It is here that he feels most complete.
So for the first two years of our marriage we have been living on the Upper West Side, and I like it, but it is not where I want to spend my life, and raise my family. So we compromised as well. We just bought a house in lower Westchester County, where we can be close to the city, but also enjoy the perks of smaller town life. Like you, it is not an absolutely perfect decision. I am still farther from my family than I would like to be. But it was a good decision for us, for our marriage, and for our family. Best of luck in your new home!
Thanks, Sam! So funny, because the UWS is where we moved from, and to me it will always be home (one of many, perhaps). We have close friends who lived around the corner from us and made the move about a year before we did, but out to the suburbs, and they love it. Funny, too, because the husband is a born-and-raised New Yorker and didn’t think he could handle the burbs … until he got his grill. And a yard. Now he’s thrilled!
I agree that when two people are involved, there is no perfect place to live, but I hope your new home comes as close as possible. Best of luck in the upcoming move!
This is a beautiful post, Ceara. I am cheering for you, mostly because I could not do what you did. I hail from the Midwest, spent my latter childhood in the Northeast and went to university in the south. I loved my time south of the Mason Dixon line (and when they say “Yankee,” it’s usually not about the team), but could not live my life there. There is a huge difference between the “country” and the “southern country.” I sincerely hope you can learn to fall in love with the south in ways I was unable to.
As an adult, I chose not live where I grew up, neither my first Midwestern home nor my Northeastern home (where my parents still reside). Though, for all the reasons I loved being born and raised here, I did choose the Midwest after college, just a bigger city version of where I was born/raised.
Nilsa, I am very much with you when it comes to concerns about living south of the Mason Dixon, and I’m honestly not sure I could live anywhere other than Charleston, Yankee that I am. This town is actually quite progressive, both in its culture and its politics, which is really important to me. The cultural and political landscape definitely changes dramatically as you leave the city, but I think that’s okay as long as we feel like we can breathe, socially, in town. We’ll see – this is definitely one of the wild cards that could sink this experiment. But I’m cautiously optimistic that it won’t. Thanks for your comment!
I have moved and moved and moved for last 12 years of my life. Since marrying my husband we have gone from a small town to an even smaller town to a big city. It’s been a change for both of us as we both grew up in small towns, but this is where his career lifted and this is where we’ll stay – unless something compels us to move. As of now, we are thousands of miles away from family and must rely on each other (and our 3 small kids) to make things work.
I think you can love multiple places. It can take time but it is possible.
What a great post about the decisions, and sacrifices, we make for our marriage. I’m a newlywed and still learning (after being single for 34 years!) about the compromises I must make so I can put my H’s happiness first in several instances. Where we live is a huge decision. For us, we aren’t moving *out* of the NYC metropolitan area but which neighborhood we live in here in NYC. Compromise, compromise. Thank you for sharing your story and happy anniversary, C!
Ceara – So nice to read your words here today. Aidan and I chatted a bit about your recent transplant when I was in NYC last week (mostly about how hard it is to be apart from your sister – something with which I have a lot of experience…), and it’s interesting to hear about it from your perspective this morning. You are a really lovely writer.
As for the move itself, I know a bit of how you feel. I don’t live in the town where I grew up, but after 11 years here, St. Louis has more or less become home to me. That said, it is not my dream city. (New York probably is.) Nevertheless, there is much I love about it, and that is what I have to remember. And that is my wish for you and Charleston. It will never take New York’s place in your heart, and if you ask it to you will wake up disappointed every day. But I hope that you will find things about it that you love – favorite restaurants or parks, frequent trips to the country, N’s happiness, more space for your kids, etc. If you can manage that perhaps you will find a love for Charleston that may not be as complete as your love for New York, but a love that is at the same time enough.
These moves are never easy, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t right. You chose your marriage. I don’t know you, but I know that was the right choice. Best of luck to you in your new digs. And I hope we will find your words here again sometime!
Great post. I fantasize about moving to NYC, actually, but I am a Seattle girl. Born & raised. It’s interesting how much of our identities are tied up in geography. I commend Ceara for choosing her marriage and stepping outside of her comfort zone.
Aw. This post makes me so nostalgic.
I’m only 20, but I’ve probably moved more than 20 times in my life. I never actually lived anywhere. I’ve never been to the town I was born in. But within all the moving, I was fortunate to have had a chance to spend the core of my childhood in the city.
The downside is we moved to a pretty suburb with nice school district in New Jersey after NYC (the good thing was we were only an hour away from the city). It wasn’t a huge difference in the beginning for me (I was 10). But every time we took a class trip to a museum in the city, I felt a little tug in my heart.
It’s 10 years later and I still feel a tug in my heart. 336 miles away and I still can’t forget it.
I’ve realized that I’m going to go to many different places in my life and they’re probably all going to be amazing in their own way. I might even end up living in one those places.
But…I’m never going to find another New York. And I’m lucky to have found a place I love so much that nothing else can compare. And I might also be slightly bitter I can’t have it (well, too early to tell, but for the present moment, I can’t have it).
In the end, I’ve just accepted the fact that the city and I will always be unfinished business. It’s not that I can’t live without it, I just don’t want to (plus I’m too lazy to drive even though I can…subways are so much easier!).
Dear Ceara,
Please write an autobiography. More precisely, a book of essays. I now am certain that’s what you moved to Charleston to do. So… get cracking.
Ha, will do. If I had a tenth of the motivation and talent you have, it would be written and sold and I’d be choosing cover art! Thanks so much for sharing my post.
Btw, please come visit, and bring Lil Mil with you – Baby Bulldog misses her. We could even take a chance on a road trip to Hotlanta (might need a minivan this time!).
“if you change your mind, I’m the first in line….” That trip would be a great chapter in the autobiography. I’m sure it’s an analogy for something. Love the post, C.
Love to read your words here, Sister C.
I grew up moving around, so for me, no city or house or structure really defined “home.” I didn’t really have ties to any certain hometown, per se. However, as I have been living in NYC longer than any other place, I have come to find it to be my home. Is it because I have been here longest, it is comfortable, it is routine, it is what “I know” more than anything? Perhaps. But I do feel that I am, deep down, a city girl, that I can’t imagine now living anywhere else. Did it take moving around, living in many places so I have a comparison? Perhaps.
Sidenote/tangent: I find it fascinating how place matters. Reading these comments, thinking of my own different places that matter. How where we are in any moment can impact us, how just being back in a spot in a field or a certain subway station can evoke memory and emotion and alter how we feel in any specific minute. The importance of place. I think there is a larger issue to explore here…maybe that will be your next post? There will be more guest posts, right? Hope so
Heather, I had a lightbulb moment reading this. Seriously, an honest to goodness lightbulb moment. I wish we could rendezvous at Coffee Bean to discuss, but in lieu of that I am definitely going to ponder things and pen another post, this time about Place. Thank you thank you thank you!
I love this post, C! Moving as an adult is hard, even moving back “home” as I did, albeit 18 years after I left. It takes time to make a new city feel like a true home. But there is something really nice about moving to a place as a couple, as a family. It levels the playing field so that you and N can fall in love with the city together, make friends together, start a life there together. As much as I loved NYC, I had to leave. At a gut level living in NYC was not for me and it was slowly making me miserable. So I understand how N felt and think you are a wonderful wife and partner for listening. Who knows whether either city will be right for you for forever but it sounds like a great adventure to me!
Jess, so good to hear your take on our move – I think N was right where you were, where the city was slowly eating away at him. We are starting to explore Charleston together, and like I wrote in my post, I have glimpses of an amazing life we could have here. A lot more needs to fall into place, but I believe that in a happy marriage you have to get the fundamentals right, and I do think geography is one of them. Knowing how happy you guys are after your move is inspiring!
Btw, there is now a direct flight between Charleston and Miami, so I hope we see more of each other in the future!
C- so nice to “see” you here. I guess there are 2 C’s now (since sister C moved to C away from NYC). I love New York and New Orleans equally, differently so I think it’s possible. I get stuck on such dumb things with NYC. Are there juice bars and spinning studios, amazing markets for food and all of those things in Charleston? And then there’s sports teams, no MSG in Charleston. Who will baby bulldog cheer for? Would love to hear more. Maybe Charleston insecurities ha.
Hi Lauren! I know exactly what you mean about getting stuck on all of the things NYC has – for me, the tough part of moving wasn’t about leaving the amazing restaurants and museums, but my go-to neighborhood places, my comfort zone. I’m happy to report that I have fairly quickly found replacements for everything – a nearby gourmet/organic market/restaurant/coffee shop is a lifeline, and the day I found a great clothing store and manicure place was a big relief. I know that sounds superficial, but I think it is more that in finding these places I felt like I was discovering that there are people down here who appreciate some of the same things I do. I don’t shop a ton here or get a manicure nearly as frequently as I did when there was a Pinky every 5 blocks, but they’re there when I need a fix. And the girl at the local Lululemon just pointed me to a great gym/yoga studio, so one of these days I will have a good place to go when I get my postpartum act together!