Taking the Leap

On the Cusp of 50, I Make a Life-Changing Decision

There’s something about the big 5-0 looming in the distance that sort of shakes you out of your stupor. You start to really think about how you can make those dreams of yours become a reality because time…she is running out.

Because if not now, when?

My long-term goal is to settle in England. But as I’ve lived in Nebraska my entire life and I am very close to my family, I realized maybe I should take baby steps toward this objective instead of leaping head-first into it. While I admire and applaud those that can make that giant leap, I need to see if I can crawl before I walk, to reference the old adage.

So, last month, I decided I would move across the country to Virginia, specifically the Williamsburg-Jamestown-Yorktown area, at the end of the year.

Why, you may ask?

Settle in, my dear reader, for I have a story to share…

The Dreams of a Twenty-Something

After I graduated with my BA in History in 1997, I didn’t immediately want to continue my education and attend graduate school. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what my future plan looked like, and I needed a few years to figure it out. While I snagged a full-time job as a news clerk for a regional newspaper, I knew it would be temporary. I’d always planned to have some type of career in history, but I didn’t know what. I toyed with the idea of becoming a tour guide overseas, but didn’t have the passion I needed and wanted to undertake such a career. To do anything substantive in the history field, I really needed a master’s degree, so I decided to start looking at schools. I wanted to be in the UK or Ireland, and applied at Trinity College in Dublin. No surprise, I was rejected. Then I did some research on the College of William and Mary in Virginia. I was intrigued by the Omohundro Institute and their focus on Early American history. I loved American Colonial and Revolutionary War history, and I thought there was no better place to study it than William and Mary.

The College of William and Mary (2022)

So, I applied. About a month later, I received a notice from them stating I’d forgotten to include the second letter of recommendation.

Dear reader, I ignored that notice, and never submitted that second letter. Why?

Because I’d met a man and fallen head over heels in love. Seven months later, we were married, and a month after that, I was pregnant. I was 24 years old.

Putting the Dreams On Hold

About 8 months into my pregnancy, I remember driving to my parents’ house and bawling my eyes out. This wasn’t supposed to be my story! I wailed to myself. I was supposed to be studying in Europe or Virginia, exploring and traveling, having adventures, instead of being married and pregnant, stepmother to two troubled little boys, wife to a difficult man, and living 60 miles from where I grew up.

Did I make a decision then and there to leave, to head off to grad school and raise my daughter on my own? I did not. I stayed for 18 years, went through trauma after trauma. It wasn’t all bad. I earned my MA in history at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln in 2004, got a job in publishing, wrote and published two nonfiction books, wrote and published a novel, raised my kids, and tried and tried and TRIED to keep my marriage intact.

When it finally crashed and burned in 2017 with my husband cheating on me and leaving, it took me years to pick up the pieces. I even tried again to go to graduate school in the U.K., this time for my PhD. I applied at the University of Exeter and was accepted, but I only received a partial scholarship, and I couldn’t justify taking out yet more student loans to finance an overseas move for not only me, but my daughter and our pets. I was devastated, yet knew it was the right choice. Since I worked at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, I instead applied for the PhD in history program there, was accepted, and did two years of PhD work while working full-time and trying to deal with the chronic illnesses the stress of my marriage had left me with. I had to withdraw due to my health.

And then in 2023, something started to happen.

The ships at Jamestown (2022)

Dusting Off the Dreams

I’d been in a relationship since 2020, but in 2023, I began to realize I didn’t want to be any longer. If you’re curious as to why, I detailed it in this post, but to summarize: I was tired of putting myself and my needs last. I wanted, no, needed to focus on me.

After months of thinking, of looking at ways to move to the UK, of researching visas, of wrestling with finances, I remembered that letter I received from the College of William and Mary, the one I tossed in the trash. I remembered my excitement at potentially living in a place so full of the type of history I loved, the type of history I was passionate about, and started to shift my plans.

What if…

What if I rekindled those dreams of moving to Virginia? I’d visited Virginia in 2022 and absolutely loved it. Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown just lit up all the synapses in my historian brain, and I was just ecstatic, standing in those spots where so much history had happened. What if maybe I decided to pick back up where I’d left off, continue my PhD work at the College of William and Mary? What if I actually moved there?

Colonial Williamsburg (2022)

Back to the Beginning

As a kid, I devoured historical fiction. I have all those wonderful authors to thank for kindling my passion for history. Some of my favorite books were set in England, yes, but also in Early America. I loved reading thrilling adventures set during the American Revolution. In fact, when I did finally go to graduate school in 2002, I planned to focus on women of the American and French Revolutions. Unfortunately, I needed to learn French to do meaningful research in the archives, but as I had a toddler at home, that was not gonna happen. Though I pivoted in my research focus, I never lost my love for that time period.

I live in Nebraska, and while I’ve written two books on the history of the state during World War 2, I’m ready to go back to my roots, back to the love I had for the 18th century. What better way to do that than to live in a place where so many pivotal historical moments happened?

I’m leaving at the end of December, driving cross-country, taking my daughter and my pets with me. I am so excited about this move I can hardly contain myself. But I’m also terrified. I’ve moved several times in my life, but it’s always been in the same state. Moving halfway across the country will be huge, y’all. HUGE. Will I miss my family so much I can’t hack it? Will I crash and burn? Maybe.

But oh, what if I fly? What if the deep discontent I’ve felt for years disappears? What if I find that living in a place I love infuses me with a happiness I’ve never known?

I’ve got to try.

Because twentysomething me has waited too long.

Now? I am taking her hand and saying, “Come on. It’s time we make your dreams come true.”