(Photo by Sutton Spence)
At what point can you call the place you live “home” and actually mean it?
Nashville does feel like my home and it has since the first day I moved here. I knew that I wanted to live in Nashville since the spring of 2002. I was visiting Nashville for a weekend training for a job. It was a weekend filled with fun, lots of learning, new friends, meeting a guy I’d eventually date, and falling in love. That weekend, I was giddy as I walked against the crisp, cool air as the notes of unfamiliar country hits crept into the streets from the nearest honky tonk bars. The plastic Elvises all around the city seemed incredibly appropriate. I thought the city was absolutely majestic.
The boy and I walked down to Riverfront Park telling stories the whole way. I listened and watched in amazement as the city came to life before my very eyes.
We walked to the other side of the Cumberland River and sat on some huge rocks and just stared at the skyline for what seemed like forever. And I fell in love. Not with the boy. But with the city I knew would one day be my home.
And thinking back, I think that’s the moment I really knew that I wanted to live here. I knew that I wanted to come back…if even for a brief period of time.
And today, I celebrate my 5th anniversary. Not with that boy, but with Nashville. And I couldn’t be more excited.
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