I never thought I’d leave The Valley. I Love The Valley. Born and raised and proud of it. I’m that girl who actually gets Mad at people who Valley Shame. I defend The Valley in meetings, in social settings, and in other states. So how, you might ask, did I end up living over 2000 miles from my home, family, and friends?

I have no earthly idea.

Actually, I think it mostly has to do with falling in love, but that’s another story. It might also be about getting divorced, turning fifty and the fear of an empty future in an empty nest. Certainly, everyone I know judged it a crazy idea. But I love it when people think what I intend to do is crazy. Usually, every crazy idea I have turns into a wonderful success story. But this was a Big Move. Because my kids are still very young. They are both legal adults, but still young enough to be considered, by myself and everyone, too young for me to leave.

So this was my only real worry about leaving my home. The girls seemed fine with it, but I can never trust my kids to tell me the truth. They think I can’t take the truth. But that too, is another story. And, it seemed to me at least, leaving my kids was the thing my friends and family judged “the craziest thing I’ve ever done”.

Now, if my kids had gone off to college would that have made my leaving more palatable for me and my jury of friends and family? Probably. But they didn’t go off to college. My oldest daughter left the Valley and was happy somewhere else. My youngest daughter was turning 18 and was figuring out if she wanted to go to college. I wanted to start a new life not dependent on them. I wanted to start a new life with my long distance love. The only thing stopping me was my opinion of myself and the opinions of others.

I cried. A lot. I talked it over and over with myself. I tried to talk to the kids about it too. But they kept saying they had no problem with me following my dreams. I worried and stressed and saw therapists, both my own and my kids’ about this move. I defended the decision to all the raised eyebrows all the while doubting my choice. I asked all the therapists and all the jury members I trusted enough to weigh in objectively: it’s not okay for a Mom to do this, is it? The answers were iffy at best.

Despite all my worries, I made my decision. And even as I packed everything I owned and drove cross country with our family cats and my sister, I still felt awful about myself. How selfish was I? I thought and think I’m a terrible mother for deserting my kids. But when I think like that I try to ask myself, what about your life? When do you deserve one? The answer, I guess, is now?

I’m six months out now, and I still don’t know the answer. I anquish over missing out on time with my kids everyday. I see them every six weeks which is how much I used to see my boyfriend while living 2000 miles apart for three years. The girls are both thriving, without me breathing down their necks. And I’m not just saying that. They really are better than ever.

Whether it was right or wrong, I’m in it now. I don’t regret leaving them, my family, or The Valley, but I miss them all. Every. Second. Of. Every. Day.

My new life is in a beautiful place, a place I’m giving a chance. It’s not the Valley, the people here do not share my political views or my unique history. They don’t know about Casa Vega. My boyfriend is wonderful. And everyday is a new adventure in nature with him. But when I go back to the Valley, I feel homeless. As I told a friend recently, I’m neither here nor there. Still. Maybe that’s why people say long distance relationships never work; because eventually someone must give up too much.

I ask myself every day, what would I have if I had just stayed home? The answer is, not enough for me. The road not taken, and all that. So here, I am.