The Cities That Built Me: What I Learned Moving Solo Around the Country

Leaving Home, Finding Myself: How Moving Alone Taught Me Who I Really Am

Most people live within 18 miles of where they grew up. Eighteen. According to Pew Research, 57% of Americans have never lived outside their home state—and only 20% have lived in more than two states. Translation? Most people never leave their bubble. They live their whole lives surrounded by the same people, values, and places—breathing the same air and assuming it's the only kind there is.

But I couldn’t stay. Staying felt like shrinking. Like trying to breathe through a straw. My soul craved more. Not just more scenery or more space—but more perspective. I needed to challenge what I thought I knew. To make room for questions, not just answers passed down.

So I left. Alone. And I’ve never been the same since.

Salt Lake City: From Safety to Self-Invention

I left behind a stuffy, old-school job at one of Oklahoma’s massive banking giants and took a leap into the unknown. Salt Lake City greeted me with mountains, kombucha on tap, and a fast-paced tech company where jeans were the dress code and innovation was the culture.

It was like stepping into technicolor after living in grayscale.

At first, I was alone. No built-in friends. No family nearby. Just me and the hope that I was doing the right thing. I found myself saying yes to everything—meetups, yoga classes, trail hikes, gallery nights. Slowly, strangers became friends and a blank page started to fill in.

Halfway through my time in Utah, something else shifted—I founded Branded Communication. I took everything I had learned about storytelling, psychology, and messaging and launched a boutique agency from scratch. I took calls from scenic overlooks, sent proposals from coffee shops, and built a business as wild and intentional as the life I was carving out.

I also fell in love with the land. I hiked every national park in Utah, learned to rock climb, explored red rock canyons, and chased the quiet kind of freedom that only comes from standing in awe beneath something ancient. Utah didn’t just change me—it awakened me.

Dallas: Bold, Fast, and Full of Energy

Moving to Dallas felt like flipping a switch from nature to neon. I lived in the heart of the city, where I could walk to rooftop bars, grab groceries, or catch a concert at the American Airlines Center—all within blocks. Life felt electric.

Dallas taught me to move with purpose. I pitched bigger projects, took up more space, and leaned into ambition without apology. It was a season of expansion. I started showing up more boldly in business—and in life.

It’s also where I found activism. I attended protest marches, stood shoulder to shoulder with strangers demanding change, and discovered the fire that comes from using your voice—even when it shakes.

St. Pete: The City That Feels Like Home

I never said St. Pete would be forever. I thought it was a temporary stop. But five years later, I’m still here—and I’ve never felt more at home.

There’s something about this place: the vibrant, diverse community, the art, the salt air, the kaleidoscope of color and sound. The sunshine and palm trees healed parts of me I didn’t know were tired.And then there’s Book + Bottle. What started as a cozy wine bar became a sanctuary. I was desperate for some connection and found such a beautiful community. I found friends, community, inspiration, and conversations that grounded me. It’s one of those rare places where your soul exhales and says, “Ah, this is what home feels like.”

And perhaps most sacred of all, St. Pete is where I birthed my son—and six months later, birthed my boldest creation yet: my lipstick company, Femmeciety. Those early days of motherhood were tender and transformative, stretching me in ways I never expected. But something in me knew I could hold both—a baby on my hip and a vision in my heart. In between sleepless nights and stroller walks by the water, I was designing packaging, naming shades, and building a brand rooted in power and self-expression. This city witnessed both births—my son and my second act—and held me as I became someone new.

I run Branded Communication and Femmeciety from my office at Industrious in downtown St. Pete, where the creative energy hums like a heartbeat. But when my toddler needs me—when school’s out or the sniffles roll in—I have the freedom to pivot. That balance is everything.

Now I raise my son with his toes in the sand, his laugh riding the sea breeze, his world expanding every time the sun dips below the Gulf. Sunset walks, warm breezes, waves crashing gently in the distance—it’s not just beautiful, it’s sacred.

The Truth: Where You Live Shapes Who You Become

Here’s the data-backed truth: where you live matters more than most people realize. According to research from the American Enterprise Institute, your zip code is the strongest predictor of your political and religious beliefs—more than your age, education, or income.

In other words, your environment shapes you.

But when you move alone—when you leave what’s familiar—you give yourself the chance to reshape yourself. You meet people who believe differently, love differently, dream differently. You hear new stories. You expand.

Moving solo helped me unlearn old ideas. It challenged assumptions I didn’t know I held. And it cracked me wide open—in the best possible way.

Final Thought: Romance the Leap

If you feel stuck… if your soul is whispering more, listen.

Moving doesn’t mean rejecting your past. It means choosing your future—actively. With curiosity, with bravery, and yes, with romance.

So pack the car. Book the ticket. Say yes to the new city. Join the yoga class. Order the coffee. Let yourself be surprised. Because staying safe might keep you comfortable—but stepping out of the bubble?

That’s where the magic happens. That’s where you happen.