Swimming in the Deep End
It’s fall y’all. Somehow this wild roller coaster of a year keeps chugging along— toot toot— and we’ve made it to September. It’s weird for me to realize that my family has lived in Colorado for more than a year. It feels like yesterday that we were watching movers put our belongings into cardboard boxes and saying goodbye to our friends and my beloved beach. But one look at my son’s high water pajamas or the baby’s long curls, and I realize that a year has gone by and a lot has changed. So as I ring in our second fall here (complete with an early snow), I’m remembering that the second year in a new location is probably the most awkward. At this point, it’s not new anymore—I can drive without GPS (mostly), I’ve found some favorite local restaurants, and our small community knows us. Where the first year was new experiences and recreating a life transplanted, the second year is about solidifying it, and in many ways, solidifying is more challenging than creating.
The first year keeps you in safe, easy territory. “I just moved here,” allows you to wade in the conversational shallow-end of the pool, talking about places you miss, new things you like, and how you feel about life in a new climate. It’s safe where it’s shallow— not too deep, and your hair stays dry. Then one day, usually around the year mark, you realize that you’ve maxed out your time in the waist-high waters, and it’s time to swim out into the deep end. But the deep end can be scary– there’s no solid footing and no easy escape. Diving in means your hair gets plastered to your head, your makeup runs, and you’re vulnerable.
It’s risky, this deeper dive, and sometimes (oftentimes) awkward. Still, it’s where the most meaningful conversations happen, like openly talking about depression, being trusted with someone else’s grief, or sharing past triumphs and failures candidly. When our veneer slips off in the waters of the deep end, the real connections begin. But the truth of the deep end is that earning the privilege of someone else’s unvarnished story requires us to be trustworthy and willing to share our own. Which, when you’re the new person, is easy to avoid. When your history doesn’t surround you, it’s easy to gloss over your past, to present a filtered version of yourself because Instagram life looks better and certainly makes for simpler conversations.
It’s been hard starting over many times, especially the most recent after an uncommon six years in one location. But I recognize what a wonderful opportunity the military has afforded us. I’ve gotten to dive into the deep end with people from all backgrounds and walks of life. I’ve been trusted with their histories and experiences, and to this day, I get to call those people friends, no matter where we live. Living in five different locations in 14 years has taught me what a privilege it is to know and be known by others. So even though it’s fall and pools are closing here, I know it’s time to further embrace the life God has brought us to and to dive into the deep end.
