For those of you that don’t know, I am not Mississippi born and bred. I was born in Alabama, but I was “bred” in several different places. I moved around a good bit in my childhood. I lived outside Atlanta for six years, and I went to four different middle schools- one in Georgia, one in Tennessee, one in Texas, and finally I returned to Alabama to live with my dad after my mother passed. I call Alabama my home state because it’s where I was born, and I lived there from the 8th grade until I moved to Mississippi for college.
I didn’t ever intend to become a long term Mississippi resident. I intended to move back to Alabammy after graduation, or pick up everything and move off to some place outside the South. Of course, I didn’t intend on meeting my sweet David, either. Once I met him, I was ready to change it all and settle down. So a Mississippi resident I became.
For the most part, I like it here. It’s difficult being a transplant sometimes, especially in a small town like this one. In a world where “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know,” being a transplant means that you don’t have that bonus of knowing anyone. It’s difficult to feel rooted in a city like that, even with in-laws that have been here their whole lives. Over the past two years since I have lived here, though, I have begun to build my own roots. I’m David’s wife, and I’m Maddie’s sister-in-law and David’s parents’ daughter-in-law, but I’m also Abby. I’m making connections and building my own identity, and that’s nice.
There’s something undeniably charming about small-town Mississippi. For all the drawbacks that you stereotypically hear about the South, and a lot of those things are true, there are also so many great things. There is culture, there is art, there is literature, there is music. There is history, there is nature, there is a community. And I am part of it.
Have you ever been a transplant to a new city? Was it hard for you to find your place in your new city?