Growing Up in a Small Town

Since I started this blog at the beginning of the year, I have started to follow and connect with bloggers worldwide. I think that being able to observe and learn about people from all over the world has been one of my favorite parts of blogging.

Recently I have been reflecting on what it is like to grow in a small town. When I was eight, my family moved into the house where we currently live. We moved from being close to the city to a place that consists of roughly 6,000 people. Even at the age of eight, I remember having to adjust from a bustling lifestyle to a quieter life in the country.

No, I am not in the middle of nowhere. We have multiple schools, grocery stores, restaurants, fast food chains dispersed throughout the town. Yet, the bigger cities are easily a thirty-minute drive, and a lot of significant forms of entertainment are not found in my little town.

So yes, there is not that much to do here. I wanted to talk about this because I have started to find a growing frustration with living in such a stagnant place these past couple of months. This lack of diversity, culture, and excitement is causing this itch for me to leave.

Do not get me wrong; there are some great memories in this town and experiences you cannot get anywhere else. I could play Devil’s Advocate here and debate city life versus suburban life versus out in the country versus other places to live. The list can go on and on.

This feels more of a rant than explaining what it is like growing up in a small town. Overall, there are memories here that I will never forget, and I am super grateful for the friendships I have made here. But I think being in my young twenties and being sedentary for the past year makes me want to take that next step, wherever that may be.


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