Location is Nothing.
- amy spencer
- Feb 12, 2022
- 2 min read
Updated: Aug 13, 2023
When my best guy friend, Mike, moved from Chicago to Sweden to be with the love of his life, it gutted me. Mike was my everyday friend, my wingman, my most trusted confidante - he was the first person I introduced all of my “boyfriends” to and the only person to have the courage to tell me that wearing men’s Levi’s made me look like... a man. Mike followed his heart to Scandinavia, but he left everything behind in Chicago… including me. Who would scare away all the creepy dudes at Rainbo Club now? What about his family, his friends, and his rock band? What about tacos? Do they have tacos in Sweden? Mike’s courage to start over in a new location (where he didn’t even speak the language) was admirable and scary AF. In our mental preparation for his departure, we kept telling ourselves, “location is nothing.” Our friendship would endure the distance.
Mike visited Chicago less than a year later, and it felt like no time had passed at all - we talked nearly every day through social media, email, and chat. We sent postcards to each other from our vacations. Our friendship was stronger than ever - and as a bonus, his girlfriend became one of my closest friends. I later traveled to Sweden to celebrate their wedding and meet their daughter. Everything was a-okay.
Flash forward to ten years later - I married the love of my life, Gabe, who is a native New Englander. A few years into our marriage, the time was right for us to move closer to his family (including his mother), but his native Maine was too much of a culture shock for me - but Portland's population of 75K didn't give me enough cultural camouflage to hide in. We needed a bigger place to make a soft-entry in to New England, a place much scarier than Sweden and Maine put together - BOSTON. Yup, we moved to the world’s second-largest college town because I thought I would blend in.
I lived in Chicago for over 40 years. I even went to university in the city. I lived close-ish to my family, I spent decades making friends, my book club had been meeting for over a decade, and I finally got enough cred at Rainbo Club that I didn’t even need Mike to scare away any of the creeps - and I was leaving it all behind. The days and weeks leading up to my departure were scary: I attended one last book club, consumed several last drinks/took many photo booth photos at Rainbo club, I ate so many tacos, and every time I hugged my friends and family, I kept telling myself “location is nothing.”

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