Why Home Will Never Feel The Same

Written By: Brandon Renbaum

5/2/22

 

generic plane pic

 

I recently visited my hometown in Glyndon, Maryland for the second time in three years. Each time I visit  a mix of emotions flood my core. My environment in Colorado is so different from anything Maryland has to offer. I’ve done more personal growth and work on myself than ever before. Visiting home was a bittersweet experience. I feel so different each time I visit. 

The Journey:

My journey began early in the morning as I took a red eye flight from Denver into Baltimore. The plane gently descended through the morning fog and rain, finally landing around 5am. I was glad to be back in my home state, yet I didn’t know how I would respond to my old stomping grounds. Would I even recognize this place anymore?

As I stepped outside to catch the bus to the rental car facility the humidity instantly hit me like a wave. It felt like Florida or some kind of tropical environment to me. I patiently waited for a bus to the Alamo car facility. Finally one came around and the driver hurried us in without any personal greeting. This is when I realized that there is a thing called “reverse culture shock.” The ride was bumpy and the people looked miserable. The pace of the east coast is something that felt new to me. No personal greetings or small talk: it’s all about getting to the destination as quickly as possible. I thought to myself, wow…my life is so different now! 

Upon arrival at the car rental facility, I went to a kiosk to check in. I received a paper ticket and handed it to the one lonely agent in the building. They fetched my pickup truck and I eagerly loaded my luggage and began to sync my Spotify playlist to the car’s blue-tooth system. I don’t drive without music because music dictates my mood and enhances my environment. 

Driving Home:

Driving out of the facility felt like an escape from a prolonged torture. It was still dark outside and I had to plug in my address to the GPS. I realized that I was now a stranger in my own hometown. The I-95 and 295 highway system seemed like a labyrinth to me. I glanced to my right and left to look for the mountains, but there were none to be found. 

Driving on the highway as people were beginning their daily commute made me think of the past. I used to be one of those guys driving towards Washington, D.C. at dawn, itching for a little head start in the morning rush. A sea of cars flooded 695, it looked like some kind of army convoy heading into battle. I felt immense gratitude and luck that I no longer had to face this kind of morning torture. I found a new environment where this doesn’t happen, what a blessing!

I noticed all the fog and green brush that littered the fences on the highway. Weeds growing out of control and grass on the side of the roads immediately caught my attention. This may seem trivial, but in Colorado we don’t have much grass and everything looks pristine and beautiful. I thought this place looked like something out of a horror movie in a sense. That may sound strange, but that’s how beautiful Colorado is compared to other states. We are truly spoiled with beauty wherever we go. How could people live in this environment I thought? Well..I did for thirty years, that was another strange realization. 

Home:

I arrived home around 6am and nobody was awake. I walked around my backyard, taking in all the environment had to offer. I paid close attention to the deer, birds, insects, and morning dew slowly rising from the tall grass in the fields. I thought this was interesting because we don’t have a symphony of sound upon dawn in Colorado Springs.

I live in a high mountain desert environment where conditions are not suitable for most wildlife. It was like walking through a rainforest in the Amazon. I felt like a stranger in my own backyard. It’s funny how time and environment shape our perceptions. 

At this point I had been up for at least 15 hours and started to feel the effects of sleep deprivation. I tried fighting the urge to sleep as I knew it would affect my sleep hygiene later that night. I started to read and make myself some coffee. The stillness of my house brought me a sense of calm and relaxation. Home still felt like home, at least the inside did. My home felt safe, comfortable, and familiar.  

 

A Changed Perspective:

I couldn’t help but notice all the weeds, brush, grass, and trees that inhabit Baltimore. This sounds strange, but is very noticeable compared to the western landscape. The environment felt slightly confined and hindered. The vast open spaces of the west present a certain sense of freedom and liberty that the coastal towns on the east cannot provide. 

I decided to drive around my town to see what had changed in the last year. New shopping centers and restaurants were abundant and eclectic in nature. The type of people that littered the street corners and walked along the road to their minimum wage jobs was diverse. Brown, black, white…diversity in its truest sense was present. We just don’t see this in Colorado. Perhaps we are very insulated and sheltered out in the west. It’s just human nature to stick with your own race and ethnicity. This might sound racist, but it’s just human nature. My perspective was Darwinian in nature, noticing what survival looked like in different parts of the country. 

I wondered what these people did when they were not working. Was there a local trail or park nearby to enjoy a small hint of nature in this busy town? Where do people fish and hike around here? You see…my entire lifestyle and thought process has changed since moving to Colorado. Do these people know that life is a lot better elsewhere? I hate to sound cocky or filled with hubris, but I couldn’t help myself. It hit me hard that my decision to leave Baltimore was perhaps the best decision I have ever made. My overall happiness and quality of life has increased dramatically since moving to Colorado. I felt sorry these people had to live in such a generic environment. That sounds horrible, but it’s how I felt. 

 

Hometown Stranger:

I spent a lot of time just hanging out with my great family. It was nice to run errands for them and do everyday tasks with them such as shopping and eating together. This is what you do in the large cities, eat and socialize over things that are greatly disconnected from nature. Where was Pikes Peak? I already missed seeing this landmark and thought to myself how unique my corner of the world is.  

Life goes on without you and the world is always changing. I don’t have much connection with my hometown anymore, except that my loved ones live there. I just couldn’t imagine myself living in a place like Baltimore, especially during the pandemic. Crime is of greater concern in once safe suburbs and people have the look of desperation and anger in their faces. Nobody is going to ask you how your day is going in Baltimore. Don’t expect people to hold the door open for you all the time. My God…this country is divided. The mentality and lifestyles of The Midwest are so different than the east coast. It was almost like visiting a foreign country, that’s how much my perspective has changed since leaving Baltimore. 

 

Conclusion:

Visiting your hometown after putting 1,600 miles behind it feels very personal and unique. It’s a sense of awe and wonder of how much you have sacrificed in order to live a better life. The things I have seen and done are so outrageous and daring compared to the average life of an individual on the east coast. 

You will never know how much your environment affects your life trajectory until you leave it. I feel lucky to have gotten out of Baltimore, yet still feel a connection with it on some deep level. It’s a town that has shaped me and taught me many things about life. 

As I boarded the airplane back to Denver I felt a sense of relief and sadness. I would miss my family and the food culture of my hometown. Upon the descent into DIA I couldn’t help but smile. I had found a great new environment to call home. One where the land dictates my happiness. I felt free and peaceful as I drove my truck home from the airport. I didn’t feel alone because I knew that thousands of people were probably experiencing the same emotions as me when they visited their hometowns. I’m part of this great migration to Colorado, just another transplant looking for a different way to live. 

Visiting home only confirmed that my decision to leave it was the right one. My journey is only beginning in Colorado and I have an immense amount of gratitude and appreciation for my new environment. I love my family and still hold a special place in my heart for Maryland despite my skewed perspective. 

Leaving home was the best thing I have done for myself in years. This post is not meant to belittle or antagonize Baltimore. My perspective and narrative of the town are just my thoughts and feelings three years after leaving it. 

Home will never feel the same once you leave it for many years. People usually follow the masses and stick to what is comfortable and familiar. Why was I so different for choosing to leave this social archetype? It’s not that I’m fearless or don’t worry about failure…I just somehow developed a thought process that has allowed me to push through fear, knowing that on the other side of it was happiness. Unfortunately most people let fear dictate their lives and are not aware of how it affects their future. 

I’m immensely grateful for having such a great family that supports me in many ways. I could have not done this journey without them. Not everyone has this type of support system back home, guess I just won the lottery when it came to my upbringing.