What Moving Taught Me About Belonging: A Neurodivergent Adult’s Guide to Starting Fresh

Why I Needed to Leave My Hometown

Moving away from your hometown as a neurodivergent adult can feel terrifying—and deeply necessary.

When I left California’s Central Coast for the Bay Area, I didn’t have a big plan. I didn’t know anyone nearby. I didn’t have family close or a ready-made friend group to plug into. I just knew something had to shift.

What I didn’t realize until years later is how much I needed to be somewhere where no one had a pre-written story of who I was. I needed the space to figure things out for myself, to be myself—without someone watching me become it in real-time with commentary.

When you stay where you’re from, people remember versions of you that no longer apply. They knew you before the growth, before the masking cracked, before you had the language for your own needs. That memory can hold you back in ways that feel subtle... until they don’t.

What Happens When You Have Room to Be Yourself

I remember what it felt like to walk into a room and not be “someone’s little cousin” or “the quiet girl from AP English.” For the first time, I got to lead with curiosity instead of context.

I went to concerts I used to dream about but never could get to because I didn’t live near a major city. I finally dressed how I wanted to dress—because the shopping matched me. I worked in tech with people from all over the world—each one hired for something totally different, yet somehow aligned by the same mission: build something from scratch.

It felt like a reset I didn’t know I needed. A new stage where people didn’t project the past onto me. They saw who I was right now—not who they remembered or who they expected.

And that was everything.

It Wasn’t a Huge Move—But It Was the Right One

I didn’t move across the country or disappear off the map. I moved a few hours away.

That was enough.

It was enough to break out of the routine. Enough to start seeing myself as a full person again—not just a supporting character in other people’s memories. Enough to ask myself questions like:

• What do I actually enjoy doing?

• What kind of people do I want to meet?

• What environments make my body unclench?

Questions to Ask If You're Unsure About Where You Live

If you’ve been feeling restless, like maybe your life doesn’t quite fit where it is right now, try asking yourself these:

1. Do I feel seen or stifled in my current environment?
   If you feel like you’re constantly masking or shrinking, that’s information. Your environment should feel like an exhale.

2. Are my friendships nourishing—or just familiar?
   Sometimes we outgrow people, but stay close because it’s easy. Familiarity isn’t the same as connection.

3. Do I have access to what regulates me—creatively, socially, and emotionally?
   This might mean concerts, quiet spaces, hiking trails, or late-night diners. Regulation isn’t just rest—it’s joy.

4. When’s the last time I felt inspired in this city?
   If you can’t remember, it might be time to explore. Not abandon—but explore.

5. Am I staying because it’s aligned, or because it’s expected?
   This is one of the hardest to answer honestly. But when you do—it opens something.

You Don’t Have to Go Far to Feel Different

Let me be clear: you don’t have to move states or countries to feel like yourself again.

Sometimes just relocating to a nearby city with more culture, nature, quiet, or community can change everything. Sometimes even a weekend stay somewhere new can give you perspective that’s been buried under the noise of routine.

In Charlotte? Try checking out a new café in a neighborhood you haven’t explored. Go to a concert even if no one can come with you. Take a solo walk and let your senses pick the destination.

Small moves count, too.

Final Thought

Moving taught me that location won’t fix everything—but it will reveal things.

When you’re in a space that reflects who you are now, you stop questioning whether you’re too much or not enough. You just... are. And that kind of peace? That’s what most of us are really chasing.

You’re not behind for wanting more. You’re not selfish for craving change. And you’re definitely not alone if you feel like your nervous system is asking for something softer, louder, weirder, warmer—or all of the above.

Where you live shapes how you live. And it’s okay to choose something new—even if it’s just a few miles down the road.

You deserve a life that feels like yours.