Along Two Coasts

The gray space between where my heart lies and where my head lives

I grew up in Northwest Florida in a quiet little beach town called Rosemary Beach. I biked the empty streets with my small group of friends. We played kickball in the rain. Spent our Friday nights at the local restaurants. It was magic.

It was along the Gulf of Mexico that I learned about who I was.

But I discovered myself in a city in Northeast England. Newcastle had my heart from the moment I drove over the bridge and looked upon the entirely too-old buildings. I spent 3 - 6 months at a time, over the course of two years, in a terrace (what we Americans call a townhouse) overlooking an ancient church that was a ten-minute walk to the city center and a twenty-minute drive to the North Sea.

It was there I first read about Slow Living from Sara Tasker and started documenting my experience with self-portraits. I felt more creative, more fulfilled, and happier than I ever had in my entire life. All while starting a life with my husband and creating a strong foundation in our new marriage.

Then 2020 happened, Matt got his green card, we let go of our flat, and officially made Florida home. It’s what I wanted, I had told him when we first met.

Late one night over chicken tikka masala and naan bread, Matt asked, “We could live anywhere in the world. Where do you want to be?” and I said, “I want to be near my family in Florida.”

At the time, it was the only thing that made sense. I am deeply attached to my mom and couldn’t imagine a life without her in it on a daily basis. Especially at the time, when this was the longest I’d spent without her. I also loved being within driving distance of my sister in Nashville and seeing my dad when he was home on the weekends.

I spent my entire childhood with my mom and sister, as we were homeschooled. So as much as I loved England, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere but near my home.

Little did I know that over the next two years, England would become my home, too. Maybe even more of a home because it was my chosen home. Not the one given to me, but the one I felt deep in my soul. I remember the night after Matt and I first met (that’s a whole story within itself). He brought me to the bridge in downtown Newcastle and as I looked out over Quayside, something within me moved. It felt like a lock that had been open clicked into place.

But now I’d found myself back in the same little town in Florida that has become quite busier than in those early days thanks to articles written about our sandy white beaches. I live in paradise, I would say to myself.

So why do I feel like a part of me is missing?

In England, I’d wake up to the crisp mornings filled with fog and jump out of bed, grab my camera, and head out to take photos. I’d write in my journal each day. I’d post on Instagram. Creativity poured out of me in every crevice and in every way.

In Florida, I only use my camera for photography jobs. I hardly documented my first year of motherhood with anything other than my iPhone.

In England, I would literally see the picture before it was taken, and visualize all these blank spaces left to be explored. But in Florida, I’d see nothing but my covered canvas filled with memories of my growing up. Although I know this isn’t true, it felt in my heart like there was nothing left to create.

I thought maybe it was just because I was used to my life here. It’s the same old, I’d think, so of course I’m not inspired. Matt and my dad recently had this random conversation about my love of England. Matt was wondering out loud why I would want to be there when we worked so hard to get here. And my dad told him, “remember how it felt when you first came here? You’d been in Newcastle your whole life and were ready for an adventure. Well, Hunter has been here her whole life and is now ready for her own adventure.”

I loved how he knew the words I couldn’t say.

In all reality, I don’t know where we’ll end up. Moving back to England would require a lot of paperwork, dual citizenship for both Matt and Maverick, a new visa for me, and our current lives completely upended. I still feel like we could create (and are creating) a beautiful life here at the beach that I could be happy with. I am comfortable here, and that feels nice, but I’m not sure if comfortable is where I’m meant to be. I could see us moving somewhere entirely new as a fresh slate too, so that’s not out of the realm of possibilities. The truth is that there are a lot of possibilities, and I love the magic to be found in that space.

I know that eventually, we will have to make a decision or a decision will be made for us. But for now, I’m just going to keep exploring and see where this adventure called life takes me.

A question for you — have you been called towards something that doesn’t quite make sense, scares the crap out of you, and requires uprooting comfort? And if so, are you still glad you did it? I’d love to hear your perspective.

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