I was at the drive-through window, working my first job since moving to San Francisco. The customer at the window was having a fit about her overly complicated drink. I couldn’t tolerate her disrespect anymore, so I shut the window and walked away. Who was this new person I had become? The “small town” me would have bent over backward for the customer, regardless of her rudeness. The “city” me had realized that I didn’t have to put up with it. I really like the new me.
When I moved to the city, my life changed dramatically. There were suddenly thousands of people around me, and I didn’t know any of them. San Francisco is far bigger than my hometown of Jackson, California, where there are under 5,000 residents, one high school and one Denny’s. I spent my first few weeks in San Francisco getting lost because the city was just too big. My small-town, wide-eyed demeanor didn’t mean anything to the fast-paced city folk who had their own problems to deal with.
The “small town” me would have bent over backward for the customer, regardless of her rudeness. The “city” me had realized I didn’t have to put up with it. I really like the new me.
While growing up, I lived 15 minutes outside of town, surrounded by trees and old people. There wasn’t anywhere to walk, unless I wanted to go to the nearby lake. Life before my driver’s license was brutal — I had to beg my parents to drive me to friends’ houses or beg my older friends to pick me up. My friends usually drove me to naturally formed caves that were right off a back road. There wasn’t much to do except listen to bats, throw rocks and talk. I’m pretty sure no one knew about them except us, and it was totally unexpected when we found them. It’s little adventures like that that I ended up stumbling upon, because nothing else was close by.
Everyone in Jackson knew each other, and it was impossible to keep a secret for long. Advice for living in a small town: try not to make enemies, because it will dramatically reduce your options for friends. I was close friends with a guy, and when he started dating, I continued to hang out and carpool with him. But his girlfriend didn’t like that, and soon a rumor started that I was trying to steal him because we spent “too much” time together. We spent a lot of time together because we had baseball and softball practice at the same time. In the end, I had to distance myself from him, along with a number of our mutual friends.
Advice for living in a small town: try not to make enemies, because it will dramatically reduce your options for friends.
When I moved to San Francisco, I had a clean slate—I could be whomever I wanted to be. I loved being able to walk to the store to grab a few things without seeing people I knew — I didn’t have to wear makeup anymore! I discovered restaurants that delivered; I’d never had delivery services before, and I felt like a queen when my food was brought straight to me. Life felt fast and exciting—vastly different than the slow-paced country life I was used to.
In Jackson, there are only two things that kids do for fun: drugs or hanging out at Denny’s. I was shocked, in San Francisco, that everyone openly smokes weed rather than hiding it. The first time I went to Dolores Park, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing — edibles freely being sold, no one worrying who saw and people who were super-high in public. No one even hid it from the police. Ironically, my small town ended up preparing me for the weed usage more than I thought. I was more shocked than bothered by what I was seeing.
The first time I went to Dolores Park, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing — edibles freely being sold, no one worrying who saw and people who were super-high in public. No one even hid it from the police.
In Jackson, I chose the Denny’s life (or did it choose me?). I spent a lot of time at Denny’s with friends goofing off. We had competitions for who could find the worst food on the menu; I’m pretty sure the Maple Bacon Sundae was the winner. We also tried to fit as many spoons as we could in the light fixtures. It was kind of like a game of Jenga; you stuff spoons in the light hanging above the table, and you lose when they all come crashing down. These are my beloved memories with my friends. That’s a perk of living in a small town: you know your friends are true if you can spend four hours in a Denny’s booth and still have fun. I really enjoyed the sense of community in my small town, and it took me a while to find that in the city.
Now that I’ve lived in San Francisco for a few years, I feel like I’ve settled into this new life. My attitude has changed. I feel like there is so much more that I can accomplish. I feel liberated, and I’m constantly meeting new people and learning new things about my home. The diversity within the city makes it completely different from the environment I grew up in. It makes me feel extremely welcome and is one of the many reasons why I don’t intend to move back to my small town, though I will still return to see my family or take a break from city life.
I feel liberated, and I’m constantly meeting new people and learning new things about my home.
Living in a small town has taught me to enjoy the simple things in life. I’ll always remember that lesson. Regardless of the dreams I have begun to pursue, that humble Denny’s booth will always have a special place in my heart.
