I remember storming out of the house and slamming the door behind me for emphasis, cursing this small town and promising myself that when I went away to college, I would go somewhere different. Somewhere where no one would know who I was. Where I could be anyone I wanted to be.

If we’re talking numbers, East Providence, R.I. isn’t small. We have a population consisting of around 47,000 people. Despite the size, East Providence is about as “small-town” as you can get. The saying goes, that if you grow up in EP, you never leave. Even those who do always seem to make their way back. Our high school mascot is the Townie, for God’s sake. Just to put things into perspective, my friend from high school’s dad was my soccer coach, and his grandfather was my history teacher, and his uncle is the sheriff and so on. In my experience, you can’t make a trip to the grocery store without running into at least three people you know.

I resented this town for that. In my case, growing up, my entire family was made up of teachers. My grandfather was the principal at Hennessy elementary school, Myron J. Francis, and Tristam Elementary School. My grandmother was a fifth grade math teacher, my mother was an elementary school nurse and health teacher and my dad was my coach (for every sport I played), as well as a history teacher, and a guidance counselor at my high school. It was not easy.

I felt like I was being watched. There were only so many schools in the city of East Providence. So odds were, if you didn’t have my grandfather as a teacher, then you had my nana, or my dad, or at least knew of one of my family members.

With my dad working at the same high school I attended, and being friends with all of my teachers, I felt the pressure a little more than most. With him being my coach, I felt the scrutiny considerably more than most.

I just felt as if I knew everybody and had done everything there was to do in East Providence and there was nothing left for me here. I needed something a bit bigger.

And so I made my way to Boston for higher education. It’s certainly a different feel. I wouldn’t say that I like the city any more or any less than home, but I certainly appreciated the difference.

There’s the physical aspects, of course. Back home, I fall asleep to the sound of crickets. In the city, I fall asleep to the sound of horns and ambulances. Back home, I look out my window to overlook the bay and the greenery that borders it. In the city, I look out my window at overlapping buildings of the cityscape, and probably someone dancing in front of the mirror because they don’t think anyone can see them (but I can, because their window is directly adjacent to mine).

Then there are the mental and emotional aspects. Like how at home, it’s all about family and warmth, and community. While in the city, it’s about exploration and experience, and trying new things. On a Saturday afternoon at home, I’m going to my high school’s football game. On a Saturday afternoon in the city, I’m going to a coffee shop without the slightest chance that I will run into someone I know once I get there. On Sundays at home, I go to church. On Sundays in the city, I’m exploring someplace new with my free time. For me, home is enjoying the present, and maybe the past. The city is working towards your future. Home is about comfortability. The city is about testing your limits. Either way, I enjoy both very much.

But I don’t think I really appreciated my roots which lead back to the small town of East Providence until I had truly lived the life of a city girl. This past week was Thanksgiving break, and my roommate Gabby was not able to go home, since it is a long and expensive commute back to Florida. So I took her home with me. She was blown away by how “small-town” East Providence actually is, even though I’ve tried to describe its dynamic before.

She arrived here on Wednesday night, and the first thing we did was meet my parents and sister at East Providence House of Pizza, their favorite hole in the wall, for dinner. Let me rephrase that. The first thing we did, was meet my parents and sister, my Pa ( who showed up a little later), the Shattucks who sat at the table over, Josh and his crew across the room at the high tops, the Bellamy’s to our right, T-Murph and her boyfriend at the bar, and the family I babysit in one of the booths, for dinner. She has never experienced such a thing before. If you’re from East Providence, you eat at EP House of Pizza at least three times a week, it’s just what you do.

Later that night, we stopped at Shaw’s to grab cookie mix, as we planned to bake cookies and watch Christmas movies when we got back home. I ran into Nick, who I graduated with and he led us to the frosting aisle. Then Richie, who was in my economics class, cashed us out, and I saw Sarah on my way out and asked how her new diet was going. On the way home, Gabby pointed to a guy standing on the side of the road and jokingly said, “Do you know that guy?” She was amazed when I answered with a smile, “Yes, he sits in front of me in church”.

Thursday morning was Thanksgiving. Everyone in EP knows what this means. We went to the annual East Providence vs. Lasalle Football Game. It’s tradition. Every teacher, student and alumni was there. I sat on the bleachers next to my junior year history teacher who also happens to be my godfather, and Nick Shattuck, who’s father I had had dinner next to the night before at East Providence House of Pizza.

This morning was the annual “Breakfast with Santa” fundraiser which is held every year in the high school cafeteria. The entire town showed up. My Uncle Joe worked the microphone auctioning off prizes, my sister and I with old high school friends volunteered to face paint, make balloon animals, pass out food and clear tables. Instead of volunteering and doing my job which is what I was supposed to be doing, I made my way from table to table and said hi to former classmates, teachers, coaches, friends and family.

I just dropped Gabby off at the train station an hour ago, as she has to go back to the city a day earlier than I do. We talked about the difference between her hometown, and mine. She is from Boca Raton, Fla., and she doesn’t ever have to worry about running into someone on her way to the supermarket. In fact, even if she did, she admitted that she probably wouldn’t say “hi”. Not in a malicious way or anything; the atmospheres are just different. She couldn’t believe the sense of community that was palpable in my town. I was proud to say that I am from East Providence.

It wasn’t until I moved to the city, did I really begin to appreciate the warmth and comfort and support that my hometown brings me. I will always feel part of something because I am from East Providence. I am a townie, not just because I went to EP High, but also because I find comfort in knowing that I will always be able to come back home.