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Once upon a time, I had a busy career in a big city. I could have climbed the corporate ladder, bought a penthouse and spent my weekends brunching with friends à la Sex in the City. But I really didn’t want to.
There were many reasons why I chose to move back to the countryside, but the biggest was probably that I didn’t want to raise my children in an urban environment.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting that for your life though, and there are many benefits to raising your kids in the city.
I am always reminded of this when I speak with my best friend. We’re both working moms and don’t get to talk as often as we’d like, but our friendship is one where you can just pick up wherever you left off – whether you spoke last week or haven’t spoken in six months.
I love her to bits. We met in college. We’re from the same region, but have different backgrounds. Her family is much wealthier than mine.
I think back to who I was when I first started college and laugh
She had more life experience and was far better travelled than me when we first met. I think back to who I was when I first started college and laugh, sometimes, about how little I really knew; how sheltered my upbringing had been.
My friend took me to an Indian restaurant for the first time and her parents, who are always so generous, took me out for my first fine-dining experience (and many since).
When we moved into our first shared rental, she brought all kinds of cool kitchen supplies, furniture and decorations.
Her mam would regularly send her massive care packages, full of treats and new clothes.
I don’t regret growing up poor, but there’s no question it can affect your self-confidence. I felt my friend was way more knowledgeable and generally “cooler” than I was in many ways. But there was one area in life where I was clearly better off.
My friend didn’t know how to take care of herself.
Despite having barely enough money to eat, I could make pancakes, scones and chicken dinners
She didn’t know how to use the oven. She had to learn how to make pot noodles and use the laundry machine. Despite having barely enough money to eat, I could make pancakes, scones and chicken dinners (when I could afford chicken). I knew how to get by on very little, because I’d seen my parents and grandparents do the same.
Return to the country
After graduation, my friend and I lived in the same city for a while. At first, it was fun and exciting. Then, after a few years, I missed my family. I missed the countryside. I missed the relaxed lifestyle.
I hated working in a city which valued financial success over everything else. I started thinking, “What’s the point of working so hard if I’m just going to have a stress-induced heart attack at 40?”
I actually think she feels sorry for me
My friend ended up studying law and I saw her start to crumble under increasing pressures – first from school, then from work, and eventually from trying to balance motherhood, her historic million-euro home and a really demanding job – a job I’m pretty sure she hates, but continues to do because of the income.
The funny thing is, despite her stresses, I actually think she feels sorry for me. She makes the odd off-hand comment when we talk – “Oh I’d say our renovations will be more stressful than yours because we just have way too many options here,” or, “We’re so blessed to be raising our kids in such a multicultural place; they’re going to know so much about the world.”
She says these things completely innocently, so I never take offence, but I also get the feeling that, to her, I’m the same innocent country girl I was when we first met. It’s hard to reverse roles in long-standing relationships.
Living my dream
I wish I could explain to her how deeply rich my life has become since I left the stress of the city.
During the COVID-19 lockdown, my kids had fresh air, green spaces and jobs on the farm to keep them busy. We belong to a community so close-knit; I know that even when I’m not there, my kids are still being looked out for.
We are constantly visited by neighbours, friends and family members “just dropping in”. We aren’t surrounded by concrete; there is no pressure for my kids to be cool or trendy – they can just be themselves.
At the end of the day, I am living my dream
I grew up feeling envious of my wealthier friends without fully realising the wealth from which I came: the extreme privilege of growing up in a small farming community; understanding the pride which comes from working the land, and maybe best of all – never feeling like I have to take myself too seriously.
At the end of the day, I am living my dream. All I can do is hope my dear friend is also living hers.
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