We’ve scrubbed, polished, dusted and swept. The clutter has been cleared and I have filled the house with fresh flowers and other homely items designed to entice prospective buyers. Last Tuesday we sought refuge in my favourite vegetarian cafe while the inaugural viewings took place. An assortment of strangers inspected our home while we ate falafel and beetroot salad.
I moved to Exeter from London with Izzy in April 2006. When I look back, I’m struck by how brave I was, how completely and utterly fearless I felt. My Dad had died the previous November and moving meant leaving Carl in London. I didn’t know a single person in Exeter, not one soul, but I’d decided I was going to go to university, and that’s exactly what I did.
That first year in Devon was the longest of my life. Carl fought for a place on the train out of Paddington every Friday evening. When Izzy woke up on Saturday her Daddy would have magically materialised next to Mummy in bed. Sunday evenings were heartbreaking. My little girl clung to my leg as we all said goodbye, her wide eyes gazing up at Carl as if willing him to stay. She cried almost every week. Finally, when the distance was simply too much to bear, Carl left his job in London and joined us in Exeter.
I never viewed living here as something permanent, but somehow, without even trying, a home materialised around us while we found our feet as a family. I’m not talking about bricks and mortar. I mean the things that make you feel like you belong somewhere. Friendships, memories, connections. The things that really tie you to a place.
University was a huge part of what made it right for me to be here. The years I spent studying were challenging and exhausting and, at times, just plain terrifying, but they were also exhilarating. As I traversed Exeter’s hilly campus, sought refuge in its libraries and looked out over crowded lecture halls I was able to forget how much I missed living in a real city. In the ugly concrete of the university’s mismatched buildings and the musty smell of its seminar rooms, I found somewhere that was a good fit.
We’ve been happy in this house. Stupidly, ridiculously happy. I had a baby on our bathroom floor. I slipped on my graduation robes in the front room, checking my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace a million times. My new husband carried me over the threshold while the children giggled at the absurdity of our behaviour.
But at the same time I’ve known for a while that Exeter isn’t actually where I belong. Not now, not forever. Without university it feels like I’m outstaying my welcome, like I’m that guest at the end of a party who just won’t take the hint and get the hell out. ‘Go home’ the hostess wails inwardly, ‘go back to where you belong’.
I just wish I could find some of that fearlessness from 7 years ago. I am scared. Not just about the obvious things like money or finding the right removal firm, but about uprooting my children and building a new life. What if the happiness we’ve found here doesn’t follow us? What if I’ve got it all wrong and this is actually as good as it gets?
I need a new dream though. I need the next chapter. That much I know. I think.
So come on Bristol, show me what you’ve got.
Love Audrey xxx
I completely know what you mean about outstaying your welcome once finished at University. And having just made the move, and having had a bit of time to get over the upheaval and settle in, I can say wholeheartedly that I’m certain we’ve made the right decision. I’m sure Bristol will be a new adventure for you and your family. Good luck!
I can totally relate with you! As I was reading this piece, I felt as though you were saying everything I’ve been feeling for months but haven’t been able to put into words! We are stale and stagnant here too, and need a fresh start with our little family of four. I’m not exactly fearless, but I’ve got enough drive to build something new and give it a solid try, sometimes you just need a new outlook and a new setting. A breath of fresh air can be a welcome change, even though scary, much needed! Best wishes to you and yours 🙂
Amazing! I’ve just started working in Exeter and love it- currently commuting from elsewhere in Devon, but will probably be moving there soon (fingers crossed anyway!)
Bristol will be amazing for you and your family. I totally understand that it must be scary though, particularly now there are more of you to think about. Best of luck to you all though, I’m sure it’ll be seriously exciting for you! x
Bristol is waiting for you!
Being happy is about attitude and willingness; I suspect that you have both. Good luck with your move, be excited, be cheerful and be content that you’re doing the best for you and your family.
I don’t think we ever take enough time to look back and process everything we have achieved over the years. I agree with you, I wish that I had the same fearless attitude I had in my early 20s – now everything seems to be so much more thought out. Lovely post and good luck in Bristol!
This post sounds extremely brave (despite any reservations you may be having)! I completely understand the anxiety that comes with starting over- I’ve moved 27 times in my 29 years on this planet and it doesn’t get any easier. We’re actually in the process of buying a house and hopefully that will be where we settle.
This is a lovely tribute to a place you’ve known, but don’t worry. Your famiyl is your home & it sounds like wherever you may live, as long as you’re with them (and as trite as this sounds) you’re happiness will follow you.
Trust me on that. And good luck!
Clearly I have only just got round to reading this and I just wanted to say that with age comes fear. Things I wouldn’t even think twice about doing ten years ago will now give me sleepless nights for weeks in advance. Perhaps it is because we have more perspective and more understanding of the consequences if something goes ‘wrong’ or perhaps we just spend too much time second guessing. Either way, I think it will all work out fabulously in the end. But then, I would say that, wouldn’t I? x