I was very open-minded about moving to Randomsville for my first real job. More than that. I was excited to move. Perhaps that was a strategic error on my part, and dispassionate open-mindedness would have been more sensible. That said, I remain hopeful and curious when I imagine where I might move (if I’m lucky enough to get the opportunity to do so again) for my next job.

Shortly after arriving here though, I was asked by a colleague, who had also moved here from afar (not nearly as far as me) about five years previously, “So, how are you doing?” I told him I was doing fine. He was incredulous: “Really? You’re fine? You’re not traumatised? You’re not asking yourself ‘Oh-my-god-what-was-I thinking?!’” Nope – I told him – I’m basically fine. Then he nodded sagely, and told me that this was because I was still in “denial” about what I just done to myself, and proceeded to explain his theory that a major move of this ilk requires us to go through all the five Kubler-Ross stages, as we “grieve” for the life that we just walked out on. Then it was my turn to be incredulous. He was right though. I’ve been through them all:

DENIAL: “I’m fine. Moving to the other side of the world on your own is EASY.”

ANGER: “What is WRONG with this place?!!! Why does everyone drive like a LUNATIC?!!! Why can’t you buy milk in PINTS?!!!”

BARGAINING: “Maybe I’ll just stay here for a year and then go back home and try my luck? Maybe I could offer to work for free at my local university back home? That wouldn’t be so bad, right? I could earn money by moonlighting at the local pub, couldn’t I?”

DEPRESSION: “I hate this place. I will never get home. My life is over. This is the worst decision I have ever made.”

ACCEPTANCE: “This wouldn’t be my first choice scenario, but I’m lucky I have a job, I am achieving a lot professionally, and I am doing well at work. This is actually going pretty well…”

So, after the depressing period during which I had unconsciously “cocooned” myself in a fit of “I-hate-this-place-and-everyone-in-it” pique, I did what I would previously have considered to be the unthinkable – I joined a mixed football (in the UK sense) team, not having played since I was about fifteen. People at work and friends back home laughed at me. I didn’t care. I did it in the reasonable hope that people might want to hang out and go for a drink after the game, and I would thereby begin to get to know more people. They didn’t. They don’t. And I didn’t get to know anyone. Actually they are quite unfriendly and get very grumpy when we lose. It didn’t work out the way I hoped. Oh well. At least now I get more exercise…

Nonetheless, Jonathan is right. It is better to give these things a try, even if they don’t work out the way you hope they will, than to give in to what might feel like inevitable solitude. So are Kristina and Adrienne. Even when the negative feelings seem like they’re going to overwhelm you, do what you can to avoid and resist them. Or take steps towards doing something that might bring you out of it. Friends in other parts of the country? Make contact, and make plans to see them. Holidays on the horizon? Book a trip. Don’t stay home alone while everyone else gets to be with their friends and families. Be with someone else. Or be somewhere else. Or both.

And if you’re bringing electronic goods from your previous home to your new home, definitely definitely retune the radio. Absolutely do not leave it tuned on the frequency of your favourite station from back home so that you hear the grim emptiness of white noise every time you turn it on. Because that’s no way to help yourself re-adjust. You can always listen to that station online if you miss it!

–brought to you by one too many parties where the main topic was how your chosen home sucks!

I think you point out both the joys and the melancholia that are associated with moving eloquently. I agree with you that moving before the semester starts is ideal. It gives you a chance to get used to the space, assemble furniture, and create a rhythm of sorts before you dive headlong into your first semester. I think you’re right to point out the privilege of mobility, even if it is a part of being an academic that you must accept. But moving around is what you sign up for, even if you don’t realize it, the minute that you decide to pursue the PhD. As you point out, accepting moving as a part of the package is something that you can think about in both positive and negative ways.

As a kid who grew up in Memphis and who never dreamed he’d leave, I think of it as a privilege that I’ve been able to see the complexity that is American life by living in different parts of the country (Chicago, southwestern Ohio, Madison, and now Boston). And it saddens me that so many people (not just academics) hold stereotypes about regions and localities that prevent them from even envisioning living in parts of the country. As you point out, being anti-moving not only limits opportunity, but it forecloses a range of experiences that just might be good for the soul.