Being Rootless

For those who know me in real life, it’s no secret I am by no means a fan of my hometown. I frequently go so far as to say I hate living there, and have been known to dub it ‘the most boring urban area in the world’ – which, in my defense, it really could be. With a population in the tens of thousands, new housing estates in the works, and being nigh on a century old, you could expect this town to have some degree of liveliness and activity.

You’d be sorely mistaken.

For most activities, you have to leave the town entirely and go somewhere else: bowling, clubbing (not that I do that anyway), even shopping – the town centre largely consists of numerous opticians, cafés and charity shops which cater to the large number of the elderly who take slow ganders there during the week. Despite the promise of brands like New Look and Top Shop and their ilk, the shops are so tiny that they’re not worth going in. Believe it or not, the largest demographic is actually young adults – not that you’d know it, because we’re all so busy avoiding the relatively pointless town centre that you never see us. Particularly because the general attitude towards those aged 13-23 is that they’re unwelcome.

So for me, coming to university, where I live in a lively student city centre, this was like discovering life itself. People exist outside after 7pm??? I can walk to a theatre from my house??? Employment opportunities?!?!

But the thrills of living in somewhere where the average walking speed is not that of a zombie, and where you can expect to see people actually smile while out and about, are not the point of this blog post.

You see, when you combine the facts that I have no desire to return to living full time in my hometown (if I can even call it ‘home’town), that I have very little in the way of friends there, the fact my parents are planning to move elsewhere in the next few years, the fact I have never planned to permanently remain in Liverpool after graduation, and the fact I have absolutely no significant other to consider – it basically leaves me rootless. As me and my dad maintain, if we were told we had to leave my hometown tomorrow and could never return, we’d be A-OK with that.

At this point in my life, I have no particular attachment to any people, place or position. And that is simultaneously daunting, liberating, confusing, exciting, and more.

Daunting, because it means that a lot of major decisions are on the horizon for me.

Liberating, because those decisions are really entirely mine to make, without considering somebody else.

Confusing, because I see other people who have, perhaps, found ‘the place’ for them already – be it their hometown or wherever it is they’ve moved to for university, and occasionally I wonder if I should have too.

And finally, exciting because for the first time in my life, I don’t have an actual plan. I knew from a very young age that I wanted to attend university. I knew from an even younger age that I wanted to write for a living. So, up until this point, I’ve always known where I was headed. Primary school to secondary school. Secondary school to sixth form. Sixth form to university. University and then…

And then what?

I’ve touched upon this before in other posts, but mostly from a place of confusion and, to an extent, apprehension. There is a lot of pressure on those graduating from university to head straight into a chosen career path. It’s the expected thing to do. But the ‘how’ is often far more tricky for those of us not entering a profession on the more science-y, engineering-y, business-y end of the scale.

The thing is, there are a lot of things I could do, and there are a lot of things I want to do. Some of these overlap, others are things I may not necessarily have planned upon but would be open to, and others are things I am desperate to avoid – though life might lead me to them anyway.

What prompted this blog post in particular was a conversation with a friend from home, who, coincidentally, does not live there anymore. Admittedly, her new place is only a 15 minute drive away, but she admitted how much better she feels for actually having left. She was considering how long she might stay in her current place of work, at a recruitment business in London – perhaps another five years. For her, that may be absolutely fine, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting the security of knowing where you’ll be working in five years’ time.

But for me? Honestly, the idea of being in the same place with the same commute, doing the same thing with the same people for five years or more makes me shrivel up a little inside. I rely on change – it’s what I need to keep me sane. It’s always been that way. It’s why university life suits me so well; I choose what to study, and that changes every three months. I choose where to study each day, I choose when to study each day, and if I want my weekend to be the second half of Thursday and all of Friday and my working week to start on Saturday, I can do that. That’s what I did the entirety of second year.

All cards on the table, I would love to move to New York City and live and work there for a year. On a broader scale, I want to write novels and screenplays and work on film sets. I want my life to consist of projects and change and different opportunities, and I want to build a career. As for where I want to live on a more permanent basis, I can honestly tell you I don’t know. I’m completely open to relocation. Elsewhere in the UK, or even to somewhere abroad. I think that’s only natural for somebody who has had the fortune to see a variety of other countries, as I have growing up, and who feels no attachment to the place they call ‘home’. I don’t see myself settling anywhere any time soon.

Maybe that will change – maybe I’ll actually meet somebody and find myself adjusting my plans in order to consider theirs. Maybe I’ll find a position and think yes, this is where I need to be for now. But the fact is, that’s not where I’m at.

It is definitely something that’s on my mind more and more these days, as my degree comes to a close, but I think, even at this stage, it’s okay to not have it all figured out. The hows or the wheres or the whens. And after this past summer, during which I learned a lot and found a lot of great resources, I see more and more opportunities come up that – while not suitable for me right this minute – would be great when the time comes.

I suppose this post doesn’t really have a conclusion. It’s just something I wanted to put into words somehow – the idea of feeling and, I guess, being rootless, and being okay with it. It definitely isn’t something that suits everybody, and that’s fine too – but I’m really not looking for somewhere to settle.

So here’s to all us twenty-somethings, who may know what we want or may not, who may be looking to settle somewhere or may not, and who basically have a lot of decisions to make.

Do you have any particular plans? Are you as rootless as I feel? Let me know.

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