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There’s nothing quite as chaotic as a frantic 7:00 AM dash to the grocery store for saltines and ginger ale for a sick child — except maybe bumping into that one person you hoped never to see in such a state. There I was, standing under glaring fluorescent lights, disheveled and exhausted, when a former high school acquaintance called my name with feigned surprise and excitement. In that moment, I couldn’t help but think, “You totally asked for this.”
I left my hometown at 18, and fifteen years later, I found myself packing up my husband, two young sons, and all our possessions to start anew in a place I thought I had conclusively left behind.
My relationship with my parents has always been strong; leaving my quaint upstate New York town was not about distancing myself from family. Instead, I was young and eager to explore what the world had to offer.
Like many, I went off to college, fell in love, and my partner hailed from another part of the country. As we envisioned our future, we navigated our differing priorities — primarily, where we would live. I required proximity to a major city for my publishing career, while my husband cherished the coastal New England area he called home. Ultimately, we settled in the Boston suburbs, where we built our lives, made friends, and welcomed our children.
The idea of returning home first emerged when I transitioned from corporate life to freelancing. With the freedom of remote work, my hour-long commute became a thing of the past. Motherhood brought another shift; after my second child, I craved family support. I yearned for help with babysitting, meals during illness, and my dad’s handy skills when household issues arose. I wanted my parents to bond with my children while we were all able to enjoy those moments together. As an only child, I felt the need to be near my parents as they aged. When I factored in the lower cost of living and excellent public schools, I convinced my husband that moving back was the right choice.
Now, six years later, we’ve settled into our new life.
Since relocating, I’ve been struck by the number of people curious about my journey back home. I’ve engaged in numerous conversations, especially with other mothers, contemplating what it might be like to return to their roots and embrace the advantages of being near extended family.
If you’re feeling the pull of your hometown and thinking about making a significant move — especially in this era of remote work — here are some insights I’ve gathered about returning home.
My Hometown and I Had Both Evolved
I had to banish any rose-colored fantasies of the past. The quickest route to disappointment would be trying to relive my glory days that had long since passed. My move was an opportunity for a fresh start in a fundamentally different place. I checked my nostalgia at the door and prepared for the changes that awaited me both in my hometown and within myself. I embraced the familiar while remaining open to the new.
I Approached It Like a Tourist
I treated my return as if I were embarking on an exciting trip to a new destination. I explored hashtags on social media and sought recommendations from locals for everything from dining spots to the best family dentist. My favorite places and friendships today stem from new discoveries, not old acquaintances.
I Prepared for Both Ups and Downs
Having free babysitting from grandparents is a blessing. Getting a discount at the mechanic because they know my family? Awesome. Yet, encountering the mean girl from high school while looking like a hot mess at the grocery store? Not so great. The anonymity of living far away can be both isolating and liberating, while being part of a tight-knit community can have its challenges. I was aware these awkward moments would arise — perhaps I should have skimmed my old yearbook to avoid blanking on a classmate at CVS.
Home is a Feeling, Not Just a Place
Home feels like a fulfilling relationship where you find both support and freedom. Before uprooting my life to start anew, I had to ask myself what I was genuinely searching for. The contentment we seek often comes from within rather than from our surroundings. Building roots requires time and nurturing.
People often say you can never go back home, but what they really mean is you can’t turn back time. While I can’t argue with that sentiment, I believe you can return to the place where your story began and start a new chapter that aligns with your current life, making it easier to breathe and thrive. In that sense, yes, you truly can come home again.
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