When I arrived in Florida two years ago, I was convinced that I was going to stay here forever. I lived in Taiwan long enough to know that I enjoyed all things tropical: sunny beaches, sunshine for days, tropical flowers, the soft sand between my toes, and the promise of never having to deal with snow again.
At the time, I believed that the dream of living in a place that eliminated winter was my ultimate goal. But, sometimes dreams are not all that they seem, especially as time passes on.
Even with the sandy beaches, the beautiful skies, and the sea breeze everyday, there was something missing. It wasn’t just the fact that I was single at the time–even though I’d meet my soon-to-be husband just months after arriving in the US again (in a literal meet cute).
It also wasn’t the fact that I missed my family, because I knew they were just a plane ride away. There was something else missing that was dampening my spirits more than usual..
I know myself well enough to know that I’m a traveler and explorer at heart. It’s a large part of why I went to Taiwan. It’s why I went to Pittsburgh for school instead of staying near home. I love travel because I feel every time I travel to a new place, I learn something about myself, and something new about the world.
Living in Taiwan unleashed a new level of independence and confidence that I wasn’t sure I had in myself before. Anyone who knew me prior to Taiwan or even met me while I was in Taiwan can attest to the fact that I definitely was not the same person when I left as I was when I arrived. Taiwan changed me for the better, and I’ll always be tied to that beautiful island of Formosa for the rest of my life.
Taiwan made me strong enough to face a lot of what I faced in the last two to three years. Taiwan also opened up so many different life paths and relationships that I would have never encountered otherwise.
As a young girl, I constantly dreamed of writing, traveling, and touring the world. I’ve only recently come to discover that much of that desire is rooted in not doing that alone. In Taiwan, I didn’t feel alone. However, in Florida, there was a bit of solitude that I was not expecting.
No longer surrounded by my friends that I had made while I was in Taiwan, Florida felt like I was living in isolation. I can’t quite describe it, but there was something off but I noticed a couple months into being in Florida. Americans (as I have only come to realize since living abroad) can be inherently independent and isolationist at times, whereas in expat communities, you tend to stick together. I also didn’t quite click with people I met in Florida.
When I met my fiance, things seem to fall into place a little bit more. My lack of friends didn’t seem to matter anymore nor did the fact that I was working a lot. All that mattered was that he was there, and that we had each other. It might sound cliche, as I am a bit of a romantic, but it’s just the truth. For the first time in my life, I was with somebody that I felt I could create a life with, no matter where we were.
I can’t totally credit my fiance with being what made Florida better, but I can say this: without him, I’m not sure I would have lasted this long in Florida. There were days early on living in Florida, to be quite honest, that I wasn’t sure if I would stay or if I would go. Chicago was and always will be home to me, and the thought of going back to Chicago so soon didn’t seem right. Part of me felt like there was something else I needed to discover, somewhere else I needed to go. Also, I really missed friends of mine and missed the lost sense of community. For being a vacation state, friends came and went as fast as the spring breakers did.
When I was little, I had an affinity for the term “manifest destiny”. For those of you who don’t know this term, it’s commonly associated with the American desire to expand Westward, most notably during the gold rush. It is one of most fascinating eras of history because of the connections made to religion and just how much Americans were able to conquer. I even wrote my college paper on the topic and the reversal rags-to-riches story in The Great Gatsby. Obviously, that whole literary era has a special place in my heart and always will.
Visiting Denver the first two times felt like I was coming home. It didn’t feel like I was going to walk into my mom’s house, or even went into my aunt’s house, but it felt like there was something very tangibly comfortable about being there. Whether it was the people, the food, or even the scenery of the mountains in the background that reminded me of Taiwan, there was just something about Denver that I couldn’t get out of my head. Denver had this energy about it that didn’t quite match our experience in Florida, and it was hard to forget.
Perhaps it’s the romantic in me that has always idealized Denver knowing that that’s where I met my fiance. But the other part of me knows that there’s so much more to discover. As ironic as it sounds, it’s a whole new frontier that I have yet to explore. I’ve been to the east coast, lived in the South, lives in Pittsburgh, lived in the Midwest, lived in Asia, traveled to Europe several times, but I haven’t spent much time out west.
New beginnings are always terrifying to an extent, but at least this time, I know that I’m not alone. This time, I’m starting a whole new chapter with someone I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. And that, my friends, seems to make all the difference, even in the midst of the pandemic and uncertainty.
