My Small Town Equals Home

I’ve always considered myself a city girl. I used to love the noise, the night lights, and the parties where everybody was nicely dressed and willing to spend hours talking about the same subjects, unwilling to return home. I used to call myself a city girl, until a couple of years ago.

What changed me? My own small town.

You might think that it’s normal, I got older, wiser, less sophisticated, but actually what happened was that I found my peace in a different environment. I’ve never thought that it would happen to me, the girl who fantasized to reach every star in the sky, to go where no woman has been before. Of course all that did not disappear overnight, I still believe I can do grand things, but at the end of the day I can hide in my small town in a comfy house on the Second Street.

So, as you read these lines you’ll understand why I would never go back to the noisy crowded big city.

I love waking up in the morning, opening the window of my bedroom and letting the flowery breeze fill our house. With a cup of coffee in my hands, I go outside to say hello to our dog and our little rabbit. I enjoy the tickling feeling of the wet, freshly cut grass on my bare feet. When the bells are striking 8am in the morning, I know that it’s time to go to work. Work is not far and I enjoy driving in the morning. It relaxes me and I have time to mentally prepare myself for another positive day. I don’t need to rush because there’s no traffic. I set the radio on CBC and I get absorbed in the process of driving. I always remind myself about how lucky I am to be among those who enjoy their work and how good is to do something you feel passionate about.

When I get back home I spend my remaining hours reading on my swing in the garden, or cooking next to my husband. The beach is ten minutes away and the parks are everywhere. Going with the boat or with the canoe is something that we often do because we both enjoy the sun and the water.

Looking back, I believe my first connection with my town was on Christmas Day. The snow can be up to our hips sometimes and looks like a picture from a children’s book. We were looking for a Christmas tree and we found a farm that was selling them. The unique thing was that we were encouraged to go onto the farm, pick our tree and cut it as we wish. I felt like a little girl again, waiting for Santa. After we’d cut our tree, we were asked to stop by and have a hot chocolate while carols were being sung in the background. It was like a dream – and over the years it became our family tradition. Right then I built a special connection with my small town and the life that it provides me.

I no longer need tall buildings and noisy traffic to feel alive. I feel alive because I have all that I never wished for. Whenever I want to get back to the rush of the city, I take a day off and drive to Toronto to enjoy it. One day in the city is enough to appreciate that my choice of location is and always be the right one for me.

This story is from the "Immigrating to a Smaller Community" InfoBlock. To read more stories on this topic, click here.