I was talking to my girlfriend recently, telling her I’m finally used to hearing myself say that I live in Atlanta now, but the fact that I live in the state of Georgia still sounds completely random. Maybe it’s because the “how” I ended up here in the first place that even takes me by surprise.
Up in Midcoast Maine, Ryan and I were sharing castelvetrano olives and sipping on natural wine on the patio at Oyster River Winegrowers, romanticizing about moving to a new city. After four years of picnics on our favorite rocky beach, traveling up and down the coast, shucking oysters, the relentless winters and countless snow storms— something changed. Now that we had finally admitted it to ourselves and each other, it felt like the only way we could properly honor our love for Portland was to say goodbye. Gertrude Stein famously said “America is my country and Paris is my hometown” is it completely dramatic if I draw that comparison to my time in New England?
I’ll be honest, I love a fresh start. There is something so terrifying yet liberating about moving to a place where you don’t know a single person. It’s lonely and isolating but also incredibly powerful to be so in tune with your present-self. But of course, moving in your almost-thirties comes with a different territory.
We had a list full of potential cities we could have envisioned ourselves in but after a brief visit to Atlanta for the first time during the Fall, we had our answer. We were sharing coffee and croissants at Little Tart Bakeshop and decided right then and there. The energy was buzzing, the weather was ideal and new opportunities were waiting for us.
I’m painting a beautiful picture but naturally there were tears, bumps in the road and overwhelming stress as we nailed down all the logistics— only sharing the news with our closest friends and family because we were holding our breath until we arrived, pinching ourselves that we had really pulled this off.
Settling in, I found it important to set realistic expectations for myself. I remember journaling what I was hoping for: make friends, spend more time outside, join a pilates studio, go to the farmer’s market regularly. Very tame, so I didn’t hurt my own feelings if I re-read the entry back and hadn’t tackled it all. Luckily, this short list has been checked off ten times over.
Now a year later, I’m sitting at our dining table staring at a vase full of market flowers. I feel an abundance of gratitude for the way this city has welcomed me in. I know I’ve just scratched the surface for all it has to offer. I am exactly where I need to be yet eager for what’s to come.
A curated list featuring some of our favorite ATL spots so far:
Oakland Cemetery for walks (grab a matcha and sable cookie from Little Tart first)
A stroll around Inman Park (while admiring all the beautiful homes in the neighborhood)
The Freedom Farmer’s Market on Saturday mornings
and I’m so grateful to have you by my side through it all <3
“You see the shadows of your past, it was too beautiful to last
And the highway keeps on calling you to follow
And the echoes in your mind are fading slowly into time
But you can't look back and still face your tomorrow
When a city cannot hold you there is always somewhere else
But if you think you'll stop your moving, you are lying to yourself”
‘Drifter’s Sunrise’ by Bob Lind
Until next time,
xo - Paige
Any tips for making friends in a new city?? Thank you so much for always sharing beautiful and honest things 💜