One of my favorite questions to be asked is, “Where are you from?” I always get unnecessarily smiley and proudly exclaim, “Paintsville!” and I usually have to follow up with “It’s in Eastern Kentucky.” Sometimes, the conversation ends there. Sometimes, I get to babble on about how I’m from the same town as Chris Stapleton and how he actually just came back to my high school to do a free concert. (I’m pretty sure I told anyone who came within a five-mile radius about that when it happened). Sometimes, I get to tell someone about the way the mountains absolutely take your breath away in the fall, splashes of red and orange and yellow towering over you, a Van Gogh painting around every corner. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to tell them about what it’s like to actually live here, waving at every person who drives up your holler, catching lightin’ bugs in mason jars, and jumping off the cliffs at the lake all summer.
I’ve had the privilege of traveling most of the country, and I can honestly say that Eastern Kentucky is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I try my best to never take for granted the beauty of these mountains or the way our entire town pulls together in the face of tragedy. Growing up in Appalachia has influenced my life in more ways than I could ever imagine, and I owe much of who I am to this place. While I will always be grateful and proud to be from my hometown, I also know that I can never go back.
I haven’t even fully moved away yet. I still come home from school about once a month, and yet I know my heart isn’t really there anymore. People often ask me if I get homesick, and to be honest… not really. I miss people. I miss my family and close friends, and I’m still thankful to be able to come home, but I don’t need to anymore. There isn’t a part of me longing to be here. I want to explore. I’m ready to go to new places and try new food and meet new people. I’m ready to go to a country where nobody speaks the same language, and just figure things out as I go. I want to hike through forests and mountains and swim in waterfalls and hot springs.
I recently went to Chicago, and as I stood on the top of the Sears Tower, looking at the city lights against the night sky, I felt so small. They seemed to stretch on forever in every direction. No matter how hard I stretched my eyes, I couldn’t see the end. I thought of all the people walking below me, each of them with their own lives and victories and pains. As I sat on the train on the way back, I thought about the people riding with me. Some were probably heading out for a night on the town, some heading home from work, and some were probably just hoping to find a place to sleep for the night. And then there was me—a girl from Paintsville.
There are 7.3 billion people in the world, 196 countries, and endless cities and towns. There is too much to see, too much for me to experience to stay in Eastern Kentucky my entire life. Appalachia will always be the most important part of my past, but I have the whole world in my future.
