Job Loss on the East Coast: The Unexpected Path to a New Life in the MidWest

Job Loss on the East Coast: The Unexpected Path to a New Life in the MidWest

I deeply regret to inform you that, due to company downsizing, we must part ways. It's a situation I had feared the most – the loss of my well-paying job with excellent benefits, just a 15-minute commute from home. This was the job I had envisioned retiring from, the one where my coworkers had become like family. Their messages of concern and disbelief echoed the shock we all felt.

Adding to the weight of this situation, I have a child with special needs, and my savings had been depleted by medical bills. To put it plainly, I was left feeling broken. Juggling my demanding corporate job with the responsibilities of my family had always been challenging, but I had convinced myself that I was content. Now, I was left grappling with uncertainty about how to support my family. Returning to a lengthy daily commute to the city was not an option for me at 51 years old, as it had consumed years of my life before.

As fate would have it, I had a trip planned to visit my sister in Nebraska the following day. She had relocated there over 15 years ago, and after our mother's recent passing, we realized we had neglected our family bonds. We made a pact to change that.

I decided to enjoy my trip despite the distressing news, choosing to address my predicament later. With red, swollen eyes from a day of tears, I boarded the plane, attempting to avoid dwelling on the financial implications of this unexpected turn.

Upon arrival, I was struck by the ease of the airport experience. No chaotic crowds, no hurried commuters – just tranquility. My sister and I embraced warmly, and she offered sage advice: "Embrace the slower pace; it will all work out."

We began our journey in Aksarben, a charming modern town in Omaha, Nebraska with restaurants, a food hall, bars, pop-ups, green spaces equipped with ping pong tables, and a lively atmosphere. Two expansive dog parks echoed with the joyful sounds of people, their dogs, and a live band in the background. It was a stark contrast to the frantic pace I was accustomed to, and I marveled at the peace and enjoyment it offered.

My sister's transformation was evident; her once-anxious demeanor had given way to a calm and carefree outlook. She explained that returning to the East Coast wasn't worth the toll it took on her mental health.

As she showed me around different neighborhoods, I was surprised to find bustling restaurants, a diverse population, beautiful historical homes at a fraction of the East Coast prices, parks, lakes, farms, and abundant events. The math in my head began to add up. If my husband could maintain his remote job, we could live comfortably on one income. I started seriously contemplating the idea of moving here.

In the days that followed, I relished delicious food, reconnected with my family, explored parks and lakes, and felt my stress and worry gradually dissipate. I started taking the idea of moving to Nebraska more seriously. I called my husband, shared videos, and we crunched the numbers. Were we truly prepared to leave the beach, our decades-long friendships, and our family?

My sister surprised us with tickets to a lantern festival in the heart of the city, set against a man-made body of water illuminated by lanterns crafted and set adrift by attendees. A gentle breeze filled the air, creating the perfect summer evening. As thousands gathered on blankets, music filled the air, and lanterns soared. My sister and I, both avid believers in manifesting, adorned our lanterns with our hopes and dreams, then signed them. In an emotional moment, as we placed our lanterns in the water, the song "Hallelujah" played – our mother's favorite, one we had played for her during her time in hospice. It felt like her way of saying she was pleased we were together, something she had always wished for our family.

In that moment, I realized that I needed to make a bold change and take a chance. I called my husband, who, being the incredible man he is, said, "I will follow you anywhere, Justine." Tears flowed – tears of relief, nerves, and the understanding of what this meant. I was gaining so much but also preparing to say some painful goodbyes.

At the airport, I hugged my family tightly but left Nebraska with a newfound sense of hope, purpose, and energy. I didn't have all the answers yet, but that was okay. I told myself to take it one step at a time. This move would grant me the time I desperately needed to figure out what I truly wanted.

The following month was a whirlwind: we listed our house for sale, my husband focused on his work while I handled the family and the move, selling items, securing a rental house in Nebraska, transferring schools, and bidding tearful farewells. With school starting in just two weeks, we had to move swiftly.

My son, my dog, and I embarked on a three-day road trip while my husband finalized the sale of our house. I felt the wind on my face, belting out "Thunder Road" by Bruce Springsteen – "I'm pulling out of here to winnnnnnnn." I was elated, filled with hope, and embraced the adventure, grateful to share it with my son. Driving alone, behind a big truck, with the open road stretching before me, I felt empowered. We enjoyed takeout meals, evening swims in hotel pools, and marveled at the sights – cornfields, wind farms, mountains, cows, and the wonders of the road.

Fast forward two months, and I find myself here. I've found a stunning house to rent for the next two years, even more beautiful than my dream home back east, and at one-third of the cost. I'm saving over $3,500 a month compared to my life on the East Coast. I have everything I had back home, minus the constant stress and hustle. Here's a list of reasons why living here in Nebraska is preferable:

  1. My son, who needed five specialists back home, now requires only one doctor for his medications.
  2. Holiday weekends no longer mean hours in the car and hefty expenses; here, I enjoyed a 20-minute drive to a lake with jet skis, boats, campers, and a great restaurant on Labor Day weekend at no cost.
  3. My son's activities are entirely free, providing equipment, games, and even meals.
  4. My dog accompanies me almost everywhere without a fuss.
  5. The abundance of farms, free events, and extravagant Halloween celebrations provides ample entertainment.
  6. The local farmers' market offers a bountiful selection of fresh produce every weekend.
  7. Line dancing is a cherished pastime here, with free lessons and affordable nights out.
  8. I found a salon that offers hair services at a fraction of the cost back home, complete with pampering amenities.
  9. Thrift shops here have provided me with a stylish wardrobe and accessories at a fraction of the price.
  10. Landscaping costs are significantly lower compared to back home.

I now live a calm, content life, and my family is thriving. I've always dreamed of starting my own business and fully embracing my creativity. With the move, that dream has become a reality. I want to inspire others, help them manifest their dreams, and create beautiful, peaceful spaces. This is my gift to the world.

Thanks to this change, I launched GatheredEarthCreative.com, where I offer earth-inspired products and creative services like graphic design and styling. I share this story with the hope of providing encouragement and a different perspective to those considering a move to a new state.

Please explore the pages of GatheredEarthCreative for inspiration and products for your home or loved ones. I welcome your feedback. If you need a graphic designer or stylist for food photography or home organization, please don't hesitate to reach out. I'm here to help.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. I promise to share more earth-inspired adventures in the future.

With love and peace,

Justine DePalma
Founder, Gathered Earth Creative

Back to blog