Up the Garden Path: Why I'm Moving back Home after University

Some people would say it's a step backwards to return home after University. Others would say that returning to a place like Cornwall, with the economy the way it is, is an even bigger mistake. 

Having done an extra year at my university (because I changed degree half way through) meant that I watched a lot of my former class mates and friends graduate without me. The majority of my closest friends that I went to college with are in fact graduates and have found themselves jobs. They are well emancipated from the comfortable, supported safety net of education, student loans & that teenhood-adult transition limbo and busy playing at the grown up game. It's nearly my turn, and with only precious weeks before my final deadline, I know that my last claim to childhood and a world of being supported is officially coming to an end. I will be fully responsible for my own income, there will be no student loan to pay the rent - that will be completely down to me, and I won't be able to take holidays from work as freely as I do now because I won't just be a 5 hour contract, dispensable, student waitress who won't be missed if she swans off for an adventure. 

Although I've always worked hard along side university (For a long while I juggled three different jobs!) I do fear entering a chapter of my life where work will consume me. I like to flit between different projects and work (which is part of the reason I had several different jobs) otherwise I grow bored. Getting bored easily (especially with ritual) is a huge trait of my personality and I always need a plethora of tasks and projects on the go, to feel like I'm learning and moving forward - finding a job that meets this criteria is going to be damn tricky! It's not always easy being a Ravenclaw ;) 

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My close family, friends and George's family are all pretty pleased that we're coming home to Cornwall to live again in June, but lots of people have been much less supportive and sceptical of our decision. Do we know how hard it is to get work in Cornwall? Yes, yes we do. Do we know how quiet and dead it is in the winter? Of course... I only lived there for over twenty years. Do we not realise that there is nothing on offer for young people? I never really understand this statement. There is everything to do, if you love the outside. I struggle more with finding things to do in a city because in Cornwall, I can always sit by the sea and daydream - and that is by definition, doing something. 

I'll  be honest, throughout Uni, I didn't think I'd be going back home to Cornwall. Not straight away anyway. It didn't really seem like the socially acceptable thing to do. Part of it, was that George loves the city life (or so he says :P), I always saw myself working a graduate job (oh the fantasy) and it seemed that going back to your home town just wasn't part of the deal. The reality is that I've suffered really badly from homesickness throughout my entire time at University. Not just missing my family or way of life, but most of all, the ocean. It seems foolish to say that the ocean is my life, but it really does feel as though my soul yearns for those wild, turquoise waves that beat against the shores. I also ache for the salty, white washed fishing villages, for the community and for the quiet, slow lifestyle. I have a profound sense of place and I always appreciate new places, adopted places and other people's places. The thing is, that I have an enormous sense of belonging to Cornwall. I am as much the lands as it is mine, and I am like a little thing - out on Rumspringa to see the world before it calls me back.

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I never thought it would be okay to go back home this soon - that was until my friend Keren returned to her home town in North Wales upon graduation.

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George and I had talked a lot about moving to Edinburgh last year, and it seemed as though that was going to be the plan. I love Edinburgh dearly and it's even near the sea, albeit the landscape is completely different and it's much colder! This year though, the homesickness reached a crisis point and I realised that I had to go back to Cornwall.
I thought long and hard, and realised that it didn't have to be a forever thing. Nothing is set in stone, we are fortunate enough to have choices. I could move home for a little while, or a long while. It didn't matter, I could always move away again. The thing that was obvious to me, was the need to spend some time recuperating. The last four years in Bath have gone in a whirlwind, swept up like dry leaves in an autumn gust and blown right past me. I find myself all of a sudden at the end of a chapter, preparing to start the next one. I've always studied creative subjects at Uni - before Creative Writing, it was Photography. I found myself these four years, struggling for inspiration (remedied slightly by walking the canals) but when I was sat by the ocean or winding creeks back home when visiting, my mind was alive with stories and dreams. The longer I spent away from home, the more my dreams dried up. It was clear that I needed to be in Cornwall for a good, long while to recharge those dreams.

After discussing it long and hard with George and the family, it seemed that everyone close to us agreed that it was best for us to move home for a while.

George and I have really struggled with the transition in lifestyle, George - with the independence and  social aspect and I with the crowds and being landlocked. We're both from a small community that are quite social and we have roles and expectations within our network. We've found it harder to socialise in the city and found ourselves adopting a monotonous lifestyle where we flit between work and our flat. Although we love being outdoors and doing activities, commitments, low funds and lethargy has seen an increase in us choosing to remain at home and not doing any of the exciting things we'd said we would take up when we moved here. We wanted to start Electro swing dance classes- that never happened, the club never replied to my emails asking when and where they were held! We had all sorts of fine plans for this city life but they never materialised. I quit the samba band due to my low self esteem with dyspraxia and never managed to get round to picking up a Bath discovery card so we could get into the museums and things for free. All in all, our lifestyle here took a massive plummet. 

In Cornwall, we were active and engaged in lots and lots of things. Always doing, always being, always creating. We were poor, but we didn't need money to have fun. With the wedding just over a year away, and taking place on the Lizard, it also made sense to go home for that too, and to plan it with our families around us. 

So my reasons?

• Homesickness 
• Well being
• Wedding planning
• Inspiration 
• Lifestyle 
• Money 

You're probably wondering how my  final reason can be money. It seems such an odd one, especially when you consider the fact that Cornwall has a shockingly bad economy. We just can't afford the rent in Bath and as George has no degree, this place is a bit of a dead end for him. With no network or contacts, there's no way for George to find a job that matches his ability. He is severely dyslexic and his brief spell at University was nothing short of traumatic for him. In spite of this, he's an extremely talented boy, a gifted problem solver, has a Mensa IQ, fabulous circus skills, has a flair for drama and the performing arts and is great with people. None of this sticks on a CV though - No degree? He might as well accept the fact that he's going to be a barman forever. He's applied for apprenticeships and trainee jobs, but nobody wants to know - because he doesn't have a degree. 

But back home in Cornwall, we have a network. We have the support of our community. It's much easier for us to find jobs because we are more familiar with what there is and Cornwall has great opportunities for artisans and craftsmen. What little we have there is more than the nothing we have here. 

So my plan? 

It's not a secret that my dream is to be a published YA author... and what a pipe dream that is indeed! I have also been hard at work these last three years building up my own portfolio of professional photography so that I can register as freelance and run my photography business 'Salty Sea Photography Co.' All being well, I'll be able to run that from Cornwall and make an income from taking photographs for people, be it musicians, dancers, weddings, couples and families. It's my dream to do what I love for a living but I accept that in the early days, work won't be coming in every single week. While I work my butt off to get to that stage, I'll take a part time job for the security and income - a girl's gotta pay the rent after all! 

We'll come out and explore again some day, maybe after we get married. George and I have spoke a lot about the move back to Cornwall because I didn't in any way, want him to feel as though I was dragging him home with me and gave him every opportunity to stay here. He assured me that's not the case and that he thinks coming home is for the best too. I'll follow him to the city for a spell if he feels he needs it just as he's followed me back to the sea. Between you and me, our families, friends and I know he's a country boy at heart. He's already got excited about taking up archery again when we get home. 

So if you've moved to a new place or are at university and miss your happy place dearly, remember, nothing has to be forever. There is nothing wrong with returning home, it's not a step backwards. If it makes you happy, then it's a step forward. Success at life shouldn't be measurable by what job we have, how much money we have or how popular we are, but how consistently happy we feel and at peace. 

In my life, I prioritise creativity, learning and above all, internal wellbeing. I've learned a lot about myself over the last four years and more recently, I've learned that I don't care about a graduate job. I don't care about earning a 30K salary and having a really nice car. I care about where I am and who is around me. If being by the sea in a tiny house and working two jobs is what it takes to feel inspired, at peace with the world and have wondrous dreams - then that is the path I shall take. 

Because my life goal, is wisdom and happiness. 

Not money.

Not fame. 

These photographs are from a few weeks ago when I went home briefly. My dear friend Alex and I visited the Potager gardens in Constantine, an idyllic Cornish village in the middle of river country (which incidentally has a great pub that has open folk sessions!). It's one of those windy, backroads villages that's right by the river near to Falmouth. The Potager gardens are a delightful, bright cluster of greenhouses set in the middle of nowhere but work a little like the room of requirement at Hogwarts; you sort of stumble upon it suddenly, and its sat there waiting for you with all sorts of  wonderful things to offer.

It's a beautiful green space; there are vegetable patches and gardens with little cabins about where resident artists use them as studios. There's two glass houses; one is a public cafe serving delicious food and drinks. Ever wondered what it would be like to take your afternoon tea in a greenhouse? This might just be the time you could fulfil that fantasy. They even have scrabble on the table and lots of toys scattered about - the theme seems to be tractors. They are family and creative friendly. 

The second glass house contains a grow patch and several tables, a huge work bench and chairs laid about for people to use. People where sat about writing, chatting or playing so it seems like the space is an open one. There is no entry fee to the gardens and there's even a modest car park. I can imagine coming back and sitting at the big table in the glass house, spending hours conjuring inspiration from the flora  and greenery around me, the back of my neck warmed by the rays coming through the windows. I was worried about leaving behind Bath's wonderful coffee shops - where could I write in Cornwall on the rainy days? (for there are many). The Potager gardens answered my prayers. They truly are the perfect creative and quirky  little space to work on projects or just take your Nan for a day out and slice of cake (Because that's what I'll be doing! Yes Nan, you can hold me to this). 

 The glass houses were just so beautiful, I ended up doing a sort of 'impromptu shoot' with Alex... hence all the photographs! You can also nip over to her blog and read her post on the Potager gardens if you're feeling nosy.

Towards the end, we met a cat friend. I'm about to share with you my biggest unpopular opinion and I expect a tirade of hate and unfollows from what I'm about to say... but the truth is, I don't like cats.
My Nan and I have always preferred dogs (even though my Dad loves cats) but I think it comes from a variety of negative cat experiences throughout my life. The one that comes to mind is when we I was about five, we were cat sitting my aunts cat Marmalade and it did a big, squishy wet poo on my bed. The same cat used my feet as a scratching post in the middle of the night, swiping at them as they peeped out the blankets. The truth is, there are no monsters or bogeymen under the bed waiting to grab your protruding toes in the darkness- only evil cats.
That said, with the exception of Marmalade the demon cat, cats always seem to like me. The moment I see a cat, I try and avoid it but somehow they home in on me and seek me out. George, Jess or Alex  (all cat lovers) or whoever I'm with will offer it all manner of fuss and love but it'll harass me until I decide it's actually alright as far as cats go, and give it some love.
That's exactly what this cat did. Harassed me until I caved. And caved I did... we became friends in the end after I caught him spying around a gate at me (I specifically told him not to follow me) as I took pictures. He even offered to pose - what a gent. Not all cats just want to poo on my bed.

 Hopefully, in six months time I can look back at this post and smile at the thought of past me facing a great unknown. I have no idea what post graduate life will bring, where in Cornwall I'll be living - whether it's a cottage or flat or a garden shed. I've no idea if the photography will truly take off, what part time job I'll find and what new hobbies I may take up. I'm really excited to have all this waiting for me in my future. I really hope I come to the Potager gardens again and use this wonderful space that someone has lovingly put together for creatives to come and use and take inspiration from.
Most of all, I hope for good things - predominantly the wellbeing of George, myself and the people I love.

I hope that the dreams come back.