Contempt or Comfort? It's All in the Eye of the Beholder

"Familiarity Breeds Contempt", goes the old saying, and certainly I can agree it sometimes rings true. I know that before we moved all the way from Reedley,  California to Hartland, Wisconsin, I was sick and tired of driving down a particular road called Manning. Manning was the main artery that connected little Reedley to big-city Fresno and beyond. It was 12 miles down Manning to get to the freeway. It was another 15 miles via freeway to get to Target, the mall, decent restaurants, and nightlife. You can imagine how many times we went down that 12-mile stretch over the course of the 8 years we lived there. 

Additionally, to get to our kids' elementary school, we had to drive down Manning. About 2 miles. Not far, but a quick calculation of the back-and-forth from home to school multiplied by eight years and yes, you have contempt.  I loved that their school was so close, but there was really only one way to get there, and yes, it involved Manning. 

When our son got to high school, Manning became a street that was basically a skip-and-a-jump over to get to the street it was actually on. It was such a nice diversion! And of course, having one kid in elementary and the other in high school, there was a new back-and-forth routine, picking one kid up and driving to get the other kid at the new school location.

I remember the day we left Reedley, we were so sad, recalling all the things we were going to miss. Our friends---numero uno. Our beloved house. Tied for numero uno. Our favorite breakfast spot--Main Street Cafe. The donut shop, "Donuts to Go", cute little downtown Reedley, the annual Christmas and pet parades. The things we were going to miss were so numerous. To break the sadness and tension, I said to my family as we drove out of town, "I am NOT going to miss driving down Manning! If I ever drive down Manning again I'll stab myself!!" and we all laughed in agreement. Yet when we visited over Christmas, we drove once again down that bedeviled street. It was wistful, not contemptuous. 

We have been in Wisconsin now for five months and two days, and we have yet to feel the "contempt" that too much familiarity breeds. We have our morning routines down, but we see new things every trip. Just this morning my son noticed all the icicles hanging from everyone's roof eves. We commented that people in Wisconsin don't hang Christmas icicle lights because----they have REAL ICICLES!!!  My husband has learned several new ways to get around our little town, so that too breaks the monotony. We have eaten out quite a few times, but nothing has stuck in our craw as a favorite yet like our Main Street Cafe did, or Jon's Bear Club, or The Pub, or Valentino's. Nope. We are trying though, you gotta give us that. There is a pizza place that we've been to twice, and we like it. Maybe eventually it'll replace our Valentino's but you can't force that sort of warm fuzzy no matter how hard you want to feel it. It something that just happens, like a mad crush that comes out of nowhere, or a favorite song. When you feel it, you just know it's right.

We do feel an affinity for our gym---we go often enough to feel comfortable but for Tim and me, we still don't know a soul here. It's really a strange and lonely feeling to never see a familiar face wherever you go. When we were back visiting Reedley over Christmas, I'd barely gotten out of my car to go to CVS when I heard, "LAUREN!!!!!!" I bumped into people I knew everywhere. (Most of whom were confused as to where I'd been the last 5 months they hadn't seen me). You know, acquaintances but not friends who get used to your mug in their daily lives, and you get used to theirs. You don't know their names, but you probably know their kids' names. You sat side-by-side at endless Little League games, and school fundraisers. That's what I miss the most having moved 1500 miles away. The friendly wave when you drive by, and boasting about your kids' grade point average to someone who knows how hard your kid really worked for it, because they've known them since they were knee-high to a grasshopper.

I know it wasn't always like this. When my husband's job moved us to Reedley in 2002, we didn't know a soul then either. I think I pouted then too,  but I'd dug my heels in and got involved in the kids' school. I volunteered in their classrooms, and started the chess club. I was there almost as much as the kids were! I've been a lucky stay-at-home mom for more than 14 years now, so I was able to do all that. I even became a substitute teacher! I was a friendly, reliable, semi-permanent fixture at their elementary school.

Well, Jenni's a middle-schooler now, and Ian's a high school sophomore, so the days of helping in their classrooms is long over. I'm glad I did it then, but how do I make friends now? How do I stay involved now? It's much more difficult, and the first semester has ended and I still don't know anyone here. My kids are doing great---they have settled in and adapted amazingly well. I'm so happy for them.

So, what about me? I'm the new person, the one with the funny accent (hahah, that's funny). I'm the one that's too loud, dresses too differently, wears too much glittery jewelry. I am irritated time and again over how different and new everything is, and I have trouble keeping my mouth shut. Everyone seems to know one another and that's a lonely feeling.  I'm the one that has suddenly become shy because I feel so different. I keep to myself but sometimes I get so lonely I just talk to anyone and everyone. I've noticed how quiet and boring most people here live---and I enjoy being the life of the party. I don't care if people talk about me behind my back---as long as they're talking about me!!

I'm taking private vocal lessons, and my teacher is amazing. Hopefully Tim and I will put a new band together and start performing again. Breaking up our band was really the hardest part of leaving  Reedley. Baseball season will be sad for Ian's former team without him; the boys have all played together for six years. We thought that when we moved away, WE were the ones who suffered the most, but in seeing friends and family again, we realized that our absence left a hole in their lives as well. I hadn't thought of that.

The familiarity of friendships and shared experiences breeds not contempt, but comfort.