It’s walking through the hallways, smiling and being friendly, but sometimes it doesn’t click right away.
Working alone while also living alone in a new city feels lonely.
And that’s the part no one really talks about.
From the outside, it looks like I’m doing well—and I am. I’ve found my rhythm at work, I’m learning quickly, and I’m holding my own. But there’s a quiet side to all of this that comes with starting over.
It’s missing my kids.
It’s missing my parents.
It’s missing the familiar conversations and the people who just know me.
It’s the in-between space where I’m not connected here yet, but I’ve stepped away from what felt like home.
And I’ve learned that both things can exist at the same time.
I can be proud of myself… and still feel lonely.
I can be growing… and still miss what I had.
I can be moving forward… without having everything filled in yet.
This is the part of the journey that isn’t glamorous.
But it’s real.
And I know from experience, this part doesn’t last forever. Connection will come. Familiar faces will follow. It always does.
For now, I’m giving myself grace in the quiet… and trusting that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.