Uprooting
In my last journal entry, I talked about our upcoming plans to relocate but not the reasons why.
Nine years ago, we bought a beautiful old house with solid bones on a street lined with sycamore trees in a close-knit community. At the time, our entire neighborhood pitched in for private security, so a contracted company would patrol the streets during daytime hours. The surrounding neighborhoods were questionable but we felt reasonably safe here.
Prior to the pandemic, the city was on the upswing. There was a sense of vibrancy and excitement, with cute new businesses and restaurants opening up. Our neighborhood hosted community events and block parties. Conditions weren't perfect; having your car windows smashed or your car stolen were considered par for the course, but it was a reasonable tradeoff.
Conditions began changing after shelter in place eneded. Neighborhood security patrol disappeared without a whisper. Community events halted. The vibe started shifting and becoming darker. We started hearing more gunshots at night. People began driving recklessly, blatantly running red lights, tossing trash out the window, and aggressively tailing other cars.
It's hard to connect what happens realtime with the bigger picture, but in retrospect these were the signs of a city sliding backward and beginning a downward spiral. Without getting into politics, this is what happens when a city defunds the police without thinking through the ramifications.
The darkness has crescendoed over the past year. There's an unprecedented sense of lawlessness. People know they can get away with anything from shoplifting to waving guns around. It's common knowledge that the police department cannot or will not do anything. Property crimes have turned into violent assaults. In the past month alone:
- An elderly woman was assaulted and carjacked at gunpoint in my grocery store parking lot in broad daylight.
- A local photographer was heldup at gunpoint and his camera equipment was stolen.
- Someone was shot and murdered at the gas station near our house in the middle of the day.
- A friend of a friend got into an alteracation on the freeway near our house; the occupants of the other vehicle pulled a gun and shot his vehicle twice, so he ran them off the road.
- My very peaceful husband unintentionally got into a roadrage incident; he merged on the freeway, the other driver became irate about being "cut off" and attempted to hunt him down.
The last one was the clincher. This is a shit way to live. This *gesturing hand around* in indicative of a sick community. It's getting worse every day and there's no plan from the mayor or the police. There is no hope on the horizon. The only thing holding the city together is normal citizens who hold themselves accountable. We're on our own, and it's just a matter of time before something goes down and we end up dead, maimed, or traumatized.
So, DH and I have accelerated our relocation plans. We will be moving to Portland in early 2024 while the house is renovated and goes on the market.
Money
Purely looking at things from a financial perspective, this isn't our best move. Relative to the Bay Area, we have cheap housing, clocking in at just over $2K/month for mortgage, prop taxes, and insurance. For some reason (ignorace? relative affordability?), nice people are still snapping up houses in my neighborhood. Assuming they're taking out a mortgage, they're paying upwards of $5-6K/month to live here. I wish them well.
Ignoring everything else, our best financial move would be to either stay put or rent out the house. However, staying is no longer an option and we've decided that renting the house is too risky since California and our city/county have some of the most tenant-friendly laws in the nation. In other words, if a bad tenant moves in, it becomes very costly, if not downright impossible, to remove them.
So, we're heading to Portland and our plan is to rent for 6-8 months. We'd like to live centrally so we can bike rather than drive and hopefully integrate with the community. Our housing costs will almost certainly be more expensive in the short-term. I'm not sure about the long-term; it depends on whether we decide to buy a house in Portland or apply for a digital nomad visa to go to Spain. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Grief
Some people relocate as effortlessly as changing their underwear.
I'm not one of them. I didn't expect for such conflicting emotions to arise: anger, relief, excitement, sorrow. It partly stems being robbed of choice. Even though we were already thinking about moving, it was going to be on our timeline. Now that the dial has turned up on violence and crime, we
need to move and it's stripped us of making the choice on our terms.
I've spent nearly half of my life in this city. I have deep roots and attachments here. I love our century house; we've spent hundreds of happy hours maintaining it, piddling about the garden, etc. My chosen family is here. My two long-term partners are here. My clients are here.
Each of these things is hard won. I am losing a lot.
Every morning, I wake up either in a panic or with a lump in my throat. I cry almost every day. I wonder if I'm too attached or too resistant to change. I wonder if this is just a phase or if I'm going to feel like absolute crap for the next eight months until we pack up and move.
Logically, I know we will rebuild and perhaps find happiness. It's the Law of Attraction and Letting Go. But until it actually happens, I'm not sure I actually believe it. And this is really the crux of why I'm posting here; this post is marker so I can come back later and see how life has played out.
