When moving to Toronto first crossed my mind, it was stored safely in the abstract possible future of “when I’m done school”. Sure enough, I defended my masters thesis last October, and the question resurfaced. I confronted the question more seriously when two things happened: one, my roommate informed me that she would be moving in with her boyfriend in the spring and I would have to either find new roommates or relocate. Second, I began a serious relationship with a somewhat nomadic boy who yearned to live in a city where his education would finally be put to good use. Essentially, he wanted to move somewhere that he felt his life could really begin.
With these two factors to consider, I discovered that a good friend of mine in Toronto was dissatisfied with her living arrangements and would be willing to move in with me in the spring. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea so I committed to moving to Toronto in the spring of 2009.
I truly believe that I am making a good decision for a variety of reasons. Apart from the convenience of the factors listed above, I have never lived anywhere but Ottawa, and if there ever was a time to check somewhere else out, it’s now; when I’m young and relatively unattached (no kids and school, that is. My attachment to my boyfriend is not an Ottawa-specific one!)
Now, in the spring of 2009, I’m confronted with the reality of my decision. I am hearing good friends tell me how much they will miss me. I am reading the list of shoes that will arrive at Top of the World in July and recognizing that I will no longer be here to sell them. I am taking the same OC Transpo buses that I take every day and realizing that I will have no idea how to get around in Toronto. The transition will be difficult, and I anticipate some pretty severe homesickness at first. Thankfully, I will have the support of some dear friends waiting for me in Toronto, some of whom I’ve known for many years. Who knows; maybe Toronto has what I don’t even know I’ve been looking for.