Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Move

There's been much speculation about this move among friends and family who may be well-meaning (but some may be just plain meddling) that I feel I need to clear up.

I've wanted to move to New York City since the first time I set foot on the concrete in that city in May 2009. I was a tourist then, visiting sites like Ground Zero, Central Park, Grand Central Station and Rockefeller Center. I saw a concert at the Today Show. I felt like it would be the only chance I would have to be there, so I soaked in as much of the city as I possibly could in two days. New York City captivated me. When I visited last October, I experienced another side of New York: the side most people who visit don't get to see. I stayed with a celebrity friend and met others like her. I went to a concert at a club near the Bowery. I shopped on 5th Avenue. In January when I went back a third time, I got more of the same. During that last visit, I spent a week with my best friend exploring the city like a New Yorker. We rode the train all over that city, walked when we didn't ride, cabbed (and got ripped off by a cabbie) when we weren't walking or riding. We froze our asses off in sub-zero windchills and grumbled at a snowfall that came unexpectedly in the middle of the week.

New York has a gravitational pull to a creative mind like mine. Its energy and beauty is inspiring. The honking horns and marquees pulse like a second heartbeat in my chest. Everywhere I look, I see a new story. A new group of characters to write about. I see hardships and histories that need to be told. I turn my head and see a new picture to be taken. It's a neverending treasure box of things to see and do, all of them aching to be written about or photographed.

I've never kept my desire to move to New York City to myself. I told my husband when I returned after my first visit how much I loved it much I wanted to move there someday. I knew it was a pipe dream, though. Even if he did want to come with me, my divorce decree was very clear that I couldn't move the kids out of state without their father's permission. I'd come up against that man in court before and honestly, I could win, but at that point, I just didn't have the energy to fight him. Instead, I decided to make a five year plan.

After this last visit, I realized I wasn't sure I could wait five years. So I started talking about stuff with my husband and after presenting the idea of an East Coast move to the kids' dad (who was fully supportive), we decided to make the move.

The semantics of the move are simple (implementation will be tougher, of course): I will head over sometime this summer, as soon as I have a job. I'll be staying with a friend of mine through the summer. Before school starts, Midget will join me and we'll move into a more permanent place. Once Hubs can transfer to the Midtown office, he'll join us. Big Man will be staying here with his dad, where he's been the last couple years. He's doing well in school and we feel, as a family, that to move him to New York wouldn't be beneficial to him. He does have his sights set on West Point, so it's possible he may join us on the East Coast later.

I'm not abandoning my children.
I'm not strong-arming my husband into a move.
I'm not divorcing or separating from my husband.

The decision to move to New York City was done as a family. We're all on board or nobody goes. When I married my husband over eleven years ago, we promised to always discuss things openly and honestly. Any decisions we made would be made together. Our decision to move to New York City was no exception to that.

So, rest assured, while your concern is understandable (to an extent), it isnt necessary. And after a while, it just gets old.

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