Always good to know you’re not alone. I came across this post from Gaynor Alder in the Modern Woman’s Survival Guide, who writes about her decision to move to the suburbs (in Australia — who knew?). I think she captures the dilemma particularly well, describing her decision as part of an “existential crisis”:
I’ve always been a city girl, and my sense of self has always felt lovingly wrapped up in the joie de vivre of its energy. The way its streets pulse with life. The glamorous lifestyle it offers its occupants. Being surrounded by creative people. Quick commutes to the city. Strutting out my door to a cafe for breakfast. Shops within metres from my doorstep.
Leaving the inner city ring is like someone slowly switching off my oxygen, and my soul screams out as it drains the life out of me, suburb by suburb, street by street, home by home. JUST. NOT. ME.
But, something else has become important to me at this point in time. My independence. Having my own space. A sense of security. A sanctuary for my soul so that I can continue to create, without being at the mercy of other people. And as I continue to grow a successful writing business, I have a decision to make.
I could keep living in an inner city apartment that has a shoebox for a wardrobe, or I could move out for a year or so, into a 2 bedroom townhouse in the suburbs that has a space for my office and be financially buoyant. But it doesn’t make the decision any less excruciating, and this inner crisis is a doozy, because it pushes on my core fear. My very essence. Everything I’m about.
Man, and here I thought that I was only dealing with the loss of good ethnic food delivery. I never realized that I confronting the devastating awareness of meaninglessness.
Then again, as Albert Camus said:
As a remedy to life in society I would suggest the big city. Nowadays, it is the only desert within our means.
He definitely would never have moved to the suburbs.
