“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” – Lewis Carroll
For a long time, I remember feeling resentful when my parents told me that we were leaving the bright lights of the city in exchange for fields, nothing being open past 5 o’clock and long waits in traffic because the horse boxes can only travel at a particular speed.
Suddenly, I was thrust into a world of slow walkers where nobody knew what a “mardy bum” was. I’m not going to lie, it felt alien to me. So much so that I ended up moving myself to London as soon as I noticed a smidgen of an opportunity.
Contrary to popular belief, “adulting” can be really hard and I didn’t leave university with my dream job. Instead, I ended up back at my parents but even worse than that, back in a town (dramatic music ensues)
Do you know what? yes. I have been here a little longer than anticipated but either towns are getting cooler or I’m morphing more into a country bumpkin as the days go by because I’m learning to appreciate the importance of finding beauty in your surroundings no matter where you are.
Since being more open to discovery, I have found true love in the form of a nifty little independent bookshop, realised that the accent doesn’t puzzle me half as much as it did when I first arrived, and begun to spend a bit more time on the prettiest little lane in town. Don’t tell anyone but it might not be as bad as I first thought.