Decisions Require a Look Back to Look Forward
I have never been a person that likes looking back; I’m much more into looking forward. Through my “rose-colored view,” I have always believed that the future held opportunity and promise. Even when I left communities and situations that I enjoyed while facing an uncertain future, I have always been more focused on creating a future that was palatable rather than getting stuck in glamorizing and longing for the past. But if therapy has taught me anything, it is that sometimes I need to look back and understand the past before I can move forward.
I’ve been doing that a lot lately because of a question that my sister posed to me a few weeks ago.
“Just what is it about Dallas that you like so much?” she asked.
The question came as I was driving back to Dallas after spending the week in Oklahoma. As Sonya uttered that question, the skyline of Dallas came into view, and I could feel my heart rate slow as it does every single time that I drive or fly into the city that has been my home for the past 13 ½ years.
Sonya’s question is only one of many that I’ve been asked by numerous people who expect me to move back to Oklahoma to be nearer to my granddaughter. I can provide a litany of reasons why I love Dallas, but before I do, it’s worth a trip back down memory lane.
When I look back on my childhood as I played with either my dolls or my male cousins’ Hot Wheels toys, I imagined my future as an adult living in California or Hawaii. At that age, I was enamored with the beach. I still am, possibly because I was born under the Pisces astrological sign. As I grew older, I always dreamed of living somewhere other than Ada, Oklahoma, and truth be known, somewhere other than the state of Oklahoma. Unfortunately, when I graduated from high school, I lacked the courage to venture out on my own and attend an out of state university.
After my husband and I married, he was approached about an opportunity to coach basketball for a year in Great Britain. I salivated at the prospect, but my husband wasn’t interested. After I discovered snow skiing in my 20’s, I started subscribing to The Denver Post, scouring the classifieds every Sunday looking for job opportunities. Again, my husband wasn’t interested in relocating. Because I had a strong desire to stay married to him, I gave up on my dream to move to Colorado.
In 2007, I was offered a position in Dallas. Our daughter was in college, and my husband was eligible for retirement in Oklahoma. After much discussion, we decided that I would accept the job and move to Dallas in January 2008, and that he would join me in May at the end of the school year. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to retire in Dallas (“God never intended for me to die in Texas,” he has frequently said.) We agreed that we would live in Dallas for 10 years and move back to Oklahoma at the end of that time to retire.
As the time neared for my husband to move to Dallas, it became abundantly evident that he didn’t want to move. Everything he enjoyed and loved was in Oklahoma. So, for the past 13 ½ years, he has maintained our house in Oklahoma, and I have lived in Texas.
I have loved every single minute that I’ve lived in Dallas. Even when the dream job I came to Texas for became toxic, I still loved this city and everything it has to offer.
What do I love about my Dallas life? I love that I can finally “practice what I preach.” As an injury prevention professional, I have long wanted to live in an area that prioritizes pedestrian and bicycle transportation and not reliability on motor vehicle travel. I live in an area where my Walk Score is 89. I can walk to any number of retail shops, restaurants, and entertainment establishments. There are multiple grocery stores, including Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods within a 2-mile radius. My dentist’s office is one block away, and my ophthalmologist is within one mile. There are two urgent care clinics within that radius. My church, which is a “transformative Christian community that is inclusive, expansive, and entrepreneurial” is within 1.5 miles. I rarely use my car other than to travel out of town. If I’m not walking, I have access to safe and affordable public transit. It has always been important to me to become less reliant on motor vehicle travel as I age.
I live within five miles of two Level 1 Trauma Centers and cutting-edge health care, something that has also become more important as I age.
The Katy Trail, a safe, well-lighted running trail is steps away from the front door of my apartment. The Dallas Museum of Art, Dallas Holocaust Museum, Nasher Sculpture Garden, as well as a few other private art museums are within that radius. There are several urban parks, complete with food trucks featuring Mexican, Indian, and Ethiopian cuisine, which I love, as well as the standard Texas barbeque, which I have no interest in partaking. There are six Starbucks, and better yet, four local coffee/tea shops within walking distance.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, I went for a walk on the Katy Trail every day, ordered, and picked up meals from any of my neighborhood restaurants, or ordered groceries from Instacart. I never felt deprived; only grateful that I lived in a place that offered those opportunities.
In my 13 ½ years in Dallas, I have yet to overhear anyone in one of my neighborhood restaurants, bars, or coffee shops complain about “foreigners “or “colored people” or even use those ridiculously offensive and outdated terms. I haven’t heard anyone complain about members of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning (LGBTQ) community or Muslims. I have friends of multiple nationalities, religions, sexual orientation, etc. in Dallas and across the U.S. and other countries and continents, and I love every one of them. During my time in Dallas, I have become increasingly intolerant of discrimination and hate.
The reality is that for my entire life, I have longed for the diversity that I had no access to in my childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. I crave the intellectual growth and discussions that have become paramount in my job, friendships, church, and daily existence.
After I had been in Dallas for 6 months, I started worrying about the fact that I only had 9 ½ years left in Dallas. As much as I enjoyed living here, I couldn’t shake the anxiety that every day, week, and month brought me closer to returning to a location where I didn’t want to be.
Early in the book The Help by Kathryn Stockett, the main character “Skeeter” who spent four years at the University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) has arrived back in her hometown of Jackson, Mississippi after receiving a journalism degree. She has just attended a Bridge card game hosted by her hometown friends. All of Skeeter’s friends left college early sans a degree to return to Jackson and get married. Skeeter is ruminating on comments made by her friends during the card game and thinks to herself that she feels like she has been “dropped in a place where she doesn’t belong anymore.” Her next thought is that she wonders if she ever did belong in that place?
I read The Help in 2009 – a little over a year after I moved to Dallas. When I read that line, instantaneously I thought “that’s it.” That’s exactly how I felt (and still do) every time I cross the Red River to return to Oklahoma.
When I lived in Oklahoma and returned from a vacation or work trip, I always experienced a sense of dread, followed by days of depression. When I return to Dallas after a trip, I feel excitement.
This is not meant to be negative to Oklahoma. I have friends and family whom I love and who are very important to me who live in Oklahoma. They love Oklahoma, and I respect that. My desire to live in Dallas doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with them. It just means that I want something different.
There’s a photo that I took of my stepfather looking out a window in my apartment in Dallas. After I snapped the photo, I asked him what he was thinking about.
“There’s a lot of concrete and people out there,” he replied.
I can only imagine that my stepfather who lived on an Oklahoma farm most of his life, and now loves gazing out from the patio of the house he shares with my mother as the deer and other various forms of wildlife venture in view, shuddered at the prospect of living in Dallas. But I love watching the sunrise and sunset between the high-rise buildings and the energy and everything else Dallas has to offer me, as well the opportunity it has provided for me to live the life I always wanted and imagined.
I think society has instilled in women that they need to “sacrifice” their own desires for those of others. My best friend and I have been talking about core values – those that society has pressured us to adopt versus the ones that we are born with and make up every particle of our DNA (that’s another blog post for another time).
After a lengthy discussion with my therapist, it has become abundantly clear that I spent my entire life prior to 50 years of age wanting to live somewhere other than where I did. I finally got the chance to experience my long-held dream, and I’m finding it extremely difficult to give it up to return to a place where I never really “fit.” For years, I have told my husband that I would move back to Oklahoma and adjust – because that’s what I do, and that is what I have always done. I adjust to fit the needs and wants of others regardless of how I feel about it. I sacrifice my own needs for those of others because that is what culture and society has told me to do.
As another year and decision time looms closer, I am thinking about many things. The unreasonable expectations to shoulder the burdens of the family that are still placed on women – mothers and grandmothers. The dichotomy of living in two worlds that are opposed to each other and how to navigate the divide with understanding and grace. The competency and courage to do what is best for me, because ultimately, that is what is best for my family.
There’s still a lot of work ahead for me. Stay tuned.
