Leaving Macon

A few days ago on Facebook, I saw that a few friends were saying their goodbyes; one leaving Macon for a job in Savannah one leaving for a job in Alabama, and the other leaving for parts unknown. If it had been 2 years ago, I would have lamented their desire to leave. Stacey and Jonathan were doing so much for Macon, culturally and spiritually,  Chace and Katie made Macon a great place to stay as both are creative minds who help hold their community together, and Floco Torres has been a part of my Macon music scene since I started living downtown. I can’t even imagine the scene without him. 2 years ago, I didn’t know that I was only months away from taking steps to leave Macon and possibly for good. But now that I’m away, I can see the positives in this step for these friends.

I was born in Macon. I spent my formative years plotting to get out. I graduated number 7 in my class with a variety of scholarships waiting for the smart, black woman who was ready to take over the world. But when my Macon home burned down, I found myself back in the place I had always wanted to leave. It was January of 1996. I was about to meet the best people I could ever come to know. I was about to start a tremendous journey. I helped start the coffee culture in Macon with some of the people who are truly my family now. I helped with the downtown scene, first as a participant at the Coffee Connection and the Contemporary Arts Exchange then as a blogger writing about the music, food, and bar scene downtown. I tried to move away one more time but when I came back, I really started to get into what it meant to settle down in Macon and treat it like home. Once I started living downtown and stopped working two jobs, I was all in. I went to everything. I was a cheerleader for everything. I wrote about everything. Unintentionally, I began to know everyone and then I began to do everything.

For a while, it was good. In that time I lost loved ones, saw the dissolution of my marriage, saw the growth of my friends as family, met some of the most fantastic women that could exist in the world. If I could say that my life was ideal it would be true. My landlord was amazing, my apartment was heaven sent, and I know I said to myself more than once, “I’m never gonna leave.” I loved Macon. I was in love with the changes that had happened since 1996, the growth, the boom in truly good food, the local acts that were truly stellar, the indie/DIY scene that had sprung up with secret shows that were for those in the know but also really for everyone. It felt good to be in the know. My life felt good.

Until it didn’t. Exhaustion didn’t even set in until after I left. I was doing so much that I enjoyed, I didn’t even recognize that I was exhausted. But I woke up one day and knew I was not going to live in Macon for the rest of my life even though just the day before I thought I would be here forever. I went to a veterans event a few weeks later and that night I told my friend Y.O., who was volunteering at the event with me, that I thought I was moving to Alaska. I said it to test out the words, to feel the weight of them as they left my mouth, to hear them said out loud in my own ears, and to see what impact they would have on my friend. Her excitement was gratifying. But I knew that I wouldn’t leave unless the one person who would never want me to leave said it was a good idea.

Koryn was one of those people who stepped up when my life fell apart. She offered her porch, wine, a shoulder to cry on, and activities to take my mind off of how different my life felt. Really, every lady in my life stepped up in ways that I never expected and I slowly found the life that I loved because they were my biggest cheerleaders. But when I told Koryn and her eyes welled up with tears and she asked me all the questions I would expect someone to ask me and somehow I had the answers that made sense to me and she reluctantly told me that my decision made sense even though she hated it. I didn’t know that I needed the confirmation until I got it. I bounced the decision among a select group of friends and by the time I told the world, I was ready.

Sometimes, leaving Macon is not about Macon. Yes, Macon is exhausting and frustrating. But for every instance that the exhaustion and frustration exists are more instances of people coming through and showing up in ways you didn’t expect. Whether it is knowing the words to every song at your favorite local musician’s show or spending your hard earned money at venues and restaurants so that they can grow and offer more exciting options, so many people are helping Macon be the grown up city she has the potential to be. I have to admit that, watching from afar, I am jealous of what has happened since I left. El Camino is only one of the many things that I wish I could experience every day! (I mean, damn, why didn’t that exist when I lived there???)

But there were some things that could only grow once I stepped away. I’ve noticed other writers are killing it at the 11th Hour! Other bloggers are spreading the love of Macon. These writers were just waiting to step up and step in and while I do not think I could or should have been a mentor, I definitely should have been a better cheerleader for others doing what I did because I never begrudged their growth. When people knew I was leaving and Roger with me at the same time, they lamented that I wouldn’t be doing what I did, that we would be a needed missing component to helping Macon work, but I was so happy to see that the work for Macon did not slow because we left. What kind of cheerleader would I be for the city if the lack of my presence brought it down? I would have been a selfish one and I’m glad to see that, though I made a strong impact, my loss was not a devastating blow to the culture of the city.

I didn’t leave because I hated Macon. Others aren’t leaving because they hate Macon. There were and are frustrations aplenty and, like I said for myself, some exhaustion I didn’t even know I had. Not truly. I left for me. And even though I now live in a smaller town that you can’t even drive to, I have found much fulfillment in myself, in my surrounding, and with the people I’ve come to love in Juneau. My birthday buddy, Chris sent me a present for our birthday. It says, “My heart belongs in Georgia” with a heart where Macon is on a canvas painted with the state of Georgia. In so many ways it is the truest thing in my house and in so many ways it is not true. I love Juneau in a way I can’t love Macon. Macon was a project. Helping Macon work was about knowing that I could impact my community for the better in a way that would attract those like me and keep those like me.  I just didn’t realize that it wasn’t actually about helping it keep me. I did what I could do. I gave my all to helping Macon be the place I could  just be myself and enjoy myself. And when I visited, I found that everyone was still making that happen.

I miss my friends. I miss so much of the life I had. I miss my job. I loved everyone there so much. I will be watching Facebook on Thanksgiving and cursing the drive that let me know it was finally time to say goodbye, to look at my work and say it was good and it is finished because I miss everyone so much. But then I will look over at The Alaskan and he will look at me and we will look at the mountains that surrounds our home and the people that call us friends and we will know it is well.

When people take that step away from the home they made in Macon, remember it’s not an indictment against the things that are wrong with the city but a testament to the things that were right. So many people called me brave to take the step to move to Juneau sight unseen. But I couldn’t have taken step one without the love and support of all the people in my life. Even when they thought I was crazy, even if they thought I would turn around and come back immediately, they still offered words of support and encouragement. It did my heart good. It set my feet against the disappointments because so many people believed in me. I could work hard to find an apartment and job because Macon taught me how to work hard. When I got down or depressed, there were people showing me that my move was no small feat. When I was ready to celebrate, there was a cadre of folks with bottles of wine ready to drink with me over Skype or FaceTime and when I missed my friends the most, I could count on someone video calling me and showing me the love I was sorely missing. Macon did that. Yes, I left some big problems in Macon, but I also left some of the most wonderful things that life affords us. Good friends.

So to Stacey and Jonathan, to Chace and Katie, to Floco: I’m so excited for where your next adventure takes you. I am on the other end and I know how awesome, how nurturing, how strengthening it can be to leave the comfort of your home for something new. I know how hard it was to make this decision, even when it was possibly an easy decision because it’s taken this long to get to there. I know we all have battled some things that would make a weaker person crumble but you’ll see that you are the stronger for it. And as much as you held on to Macon, if you feel it, now is a good time to let go. Not because you don’t love Macon anymore, but because you love where the next step could take you. I’m excited for what you’ll learn about yourselves and how the people you left behind will still uplift you even though you’re no longer there. And Chris Horne is correct. We’re still Macon cheerleaders. We’re still rooting for the home team. Macon will never die because we’re making Macon bigger and stronger in new places.