The second part of
Moving from Manhattan to North Myrtle Beach
will be posted next week. It’s been one of the most difficult things I have ever written. Difficult in ways writing has never been for me before. I’m not very good at talking about what I don’t like in other people; I’m very used to trashing me.
As I get older I realize the truth in “life’s too short to waste__” (Pick anyone of several hundred things.) I won’t leave you in suspense—not that I assume you are—life’s good, very good.
But it took me a long time to realize I accomplished something many people dream about–I moved to the beach completely on my own and made a life for myself.
The following is a long overdue new “About Me”
Seven years ago come March, 2015 I put my Upper West Side of Manhattan apartment on the market and set out on a journey to change my life.
I closed on my apartment in October 2008 and went to stay in a townhouse in a small ocean city near Myrtle Beach, SC.
I constantly walked past an ordinary house four blocks from the ocean. The second floor deck called to me. So did something else. I wasn’t sure I wanted to live in South Carolina or this house yet I found myself bidding on it.
I closed and the recession and true housing mess came crashing down on all of us.
Life as I had known it was never to be the same.
The adjustment was messy. While the house had called to me, I couldn’t stand it. Renovating it gave me the chance to make it mine and yes understand me better and differently. I didn’t say I did the actual renovating. That would have been–well somebody would have died and it probably would have been me. I like living too much.
I went through groups of friends before I found people I truly liked. And realized though I had gone away to college, spent summers in Mexico, lived in Israel and traveled in Europe on my own this was the first time I actively pursued friends. That was a revelation.
I plan on exploring the move in my blog (part 500–it’s 10 and a half years old come February. The memoir I’m writing is about my life up to age 40 or thereabouts.
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I definitely dream of moving to the beach someday and will consider it a huge accomplishment in my life, should it ever happen.
I’m intrigued by this “actively pursuing friends” of which you speak…
I’m both jealous of your move and fascinated with knowing all the details.