It feels odd to write this now, when I’m on the cusp of doing exactly this, but a niggle that has long plagued me is this: am I the kind of girl who’d move 2000 miles for a boy?
I’m a traveller: love visiting new places, love living in them even more. I don’t mind being thousands of miles from friends and family. Distance has never hurt any real friendships.
So it’s not the distance that troubles me. It’s the reason. Every time I’ve ever relocated before – whether to darkest Bangladesh or quaintest Oxford – it’s been for work. I was willing to endure the cloying heat and suffocating conservatism of rural Bangladesh for two years because it was great for my career. I was willing to ditch my life in London for the quieter diversions of Oxford because I wanted that great job.
But moving for a boy? I can’t remember how many friends and family members raised their independent, feminist eyebrows at that.
It turns out, however, that I’m exactly the kind of girl who’d pack up her life and move to a new city for the right boy. I’ve flip-flopped. I’ve had doubts. I’ve straight-out panicked. But I’m doing it, and nothing has ever felt so right. It’s definitely complicated and difficult. But it’s the right thing for me to do, because E is the right person for me.
What do you think? Is this the biggest sell-out a twenty-something career woman can make? Or is it right to move if he/she’s right for you?
More things to read if you’re considering this question yourself