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I started my whole life over in my early thirties. I moved to a new town. I became a single parent of an infant and toddler. I changed careers. Everything about my life was upended.

I could have viewed it as a crisis, but I embraced the fresh start. I had chosen my town. Now, I would make a life in it.

I’ve been watching my parents pack up to relocate, and it’s reminded me of the inherent adventure that is starting over. Adventures sound fun, and they certainly can be, but they also come with fear, risk, and anxiety. Most people struggle with change, and I can honestly say that having endured change time and again often doesn’t make the transition any easier. If anything, it adds layers to our emotions when it comes to changing once again.

I look back at the last near-decade of my life in the town that I chose, and I look for the things that helped me make it my own. So, this one is for the people starting over — finding themselves fresh out of a relationship or in a new town, starting a new career, or simply adapting to a new lifestyle. May it help you find your footing!

Embrace the New

When I first relocated, I wanted to try every restaurant in town. Not all at once, of course. But over time, I made it a point to eat at every restaurant my town had to offer. If it was locally owned and operated, I checked it out. There are places I love and places I don’t, places that I think are severely underrated, and places I’ll tell you are weirdly overrated.

Part of embracing the new is simply opening up to new experiences.New dining was just one aspect of my adventure. I also looked for points of interest nearby — places tourists would visit, places locals enjoyed going. I spent time walking around and seeing this town with curiosity and interest. I allowed it to delight me, and nearly a decade later, it still does.

When the change is not one that we wanted, it can be hard to embrace the new. So, start small. Find joy where you can. Seek out beauty. Lean into a sense of adventure. Everything else will sort itself out.

Be Authentic

I’m happy to report that I made so many wonderful friends. It took a while. I didn’t find them instantly. They grew organically, but I can say this for certain: The more authentic I became here, the more friends I made. I might have felt like an oddball, but the more I let that particular freak flag fly, the more I found other people who felt just as out of place. In a small, conservative southern town, I found my people — the creative, wonderful, hilarious people who make up my support system.

I didn’t try to blend in. I didn’t try to make a good impression. I just started to be myself. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m universally beloved, I have made deep connections that bring me joy and fulfillment. And I did it by being me and gravitating to the things that make me happy.

It’s impossible to find our people when we’re too concerned with making a good impression and being liked. I tried that, at first. I didn’t know how to fit in. I was never very good at that. But standing out? I always did that whether I wanted to or not. So, I stopped trying to tone down my weird.

Curate Your Life

When I moved to my small but perfectly adorable town, I decided there were silly things that I wanted — but I wanted them all the same. I wanted to be known in the coffee shop. I wanted to come in and have my name and order known. I would have my usual, and it would meant I had come home.

Had I watched too many sitcoms? Of course. Had I moved too many times to ever feel like I was home? That’s also true. Was it pure bliss the first time my order was brought to me without having to ask? It was indeed!

It was such a small, silly thing, I know. But I wanted it. I wanted to be known in the area where I lived. To be a part of the town. To make some kind of mark. I didn’t think at first beyond coffee. But I slowly began to carve out a me-sized space in this place I had chosen.

I curated my life in other ways, too. At the time I moved here, I was in an apartment with a small, walled concrete patio that I hated at first because I had two small children who could easily fall and get hurt. But I decided to tackle that challenge. I put down turf to make a soft carpet, and I created a secret garden for my little family. I hung up lattice around the concrete walls, planted climbing moonflowers, and strung fairy lights all around. I created a cozy, happy, blooming garden in that tiny space. I designed my whole life with thought and intention toward making it what I wanted by using what I had.

Fall in Love

The best thing I ever did was fall in love with my town. It eased the ache of going through a divorce, a career change, and a relocation. It helped me face the fear of starting over because it gave me something to hope for and to enjoy. It was hard to give in to anxiety when I was busy falling in love with the home I’d made.

I was also busy falling in love with the version of myself who made a home here. I was less rigid than I’d been before. I was more relaxed and open. Instead of clinging to all that I had lost in the move, I began to appreciate all that I had gained. It made the transition easier and lessened the grief I might have felt otherwise. It’s hard to feel sad and afraid when we’re filled with a sense of good fortune for being right where we are.

When I left my cozy, charming apartment and bought a house, I thought it would fill me with grief. I was excited to buy a home, but I had made one in that small apartment. I had a veritable forest of plants in my living room, an impressive home library for such a small space, and a beautiful, secret garden contained on my small patio. Sure, I was trading “up” for a house, but I was also having to start over.

But the grief never arrived. I was too busy marveling at the new house. I made it my own — my home. I let my fun little flags fly — quite literally. I hung up a Taylor Swift flag from the kids’ treehouse and an equality flag from my home. I began to curate my space, my routine, and my life. I fell in love with it, and instead of mourning what I no longer I had, I was relishing what I did. I began to dream of how to turn the house I owned into a home I loved — and, dear reader, I did!

Starting over is never easy. It’s a new and unknowable chapter. But the good news is that we write it. We choose what comes next — how we’ll live and what we’ll do. There’s beautiful possibility inherent in embracing the next step and all it may offer.

Originally published on Medium