This place is wild. It's wild and unpolished, the last untamed area of the United States, as if time has stood still since the days of Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone. I don't think there is any number of country songs, documentaries or articles that can embody what it truly feels like to live here...to stand in the midst of thousands of acres of ancient, eroding ridgelines and tall, decaying trees. To walk along rutted mountain paths, wondering where they used to go and what they were used for. To drive past little crumbling shacks and eroded family tombstones tucked away on hillsides, wishing they could tell you their stories. To look up at a sky so blue it hurts your eyes, and gaze over shades of blue mountain tops that make you feel tiny. Living here comes with its struggles. The houses are cobbled together and the vehicles falling apart; the winding, one-lane holler roads are not maintained well; the garbage service is unreliable. Everything is covered in dust or mud, all of the time. I have worn my hiking boots more than any other pair of shoes I own and I have to sweep every day because of the dirt tracked in. Housing is cheap but utilities and car insurance are some of the most expensive in the country, due to dangerous driving and corporate monopolies taking advantage of people. Roads being plowed in the winter is not a guarantee, nor is running water, so people are always prepared to be house-bound for several days at a time. Like I said - it's as if time stopped here 200 years ago. I have yet to figure out why God sent me here. Most days it feels like I am just being tested, as if He is letting me explore a different part of my personality - the wild, mountain-girl side. As a kid I loved the book "My Side of the Mountain," and now I actually live on the side of a mountain. Do I have what it takes? Do I truly have what it takes to be tough, to be self-reliant, to live without life's luxuries? This area may be poor in monetary resources, but the people are rich in love and kindness. I have honestly never met more friendly, generous people. I know they're that way because it's the only thing that keeps them going out here in this wild, unpredictable land - this land that was raped by the coal companies, taken advantage of by the corporations, and then forgotten by the rest of America. All they have are each other, and they take care of each other. That is the most beautiful thing I have seen out here. Whether or not I truly fall in love with this place has yet to be determined. No one ever said that trying new things was easy. But every new thing and trial holds a lesson, and I know that no matter what happens in the end, I will be grateful I experienced Kentucky.

It's hard to believe that it's been just over one month since I left behind everything I knew and moved to Kentucky. It feels like so much longer. So much has been packed into those 30 days. The life I knew then and the life I know now are worlds apart. In one month, I have been to Georgia, Ohio, West Virginia and Virginia. I have eaten Indian, Thai, Korean and Japanese food. I have been to one of the largest grocery stores in the country, stayed at a beautiful historic hotel, had my vehicle stranded at the bottom of a hill and had to hike two miles out of a national forest, explored dilapidated coal mine towns, hiked beautiful trails, experienced the soul-searing pain of losing my mother, and moved into a new home. I have felt excitement, joy, fear, anxiety, gratitude, depression, and guilt. I feel guilt, because while I am sitting on a very nice, comfortable couch in a warm, cozy house on a beautiful mountain-side, I feel anxious. I should feel immense gratitude, and deep down I do - but the anxiety likes to take over. While on a walk today, I told my husband how ironic it is that this is exactly what we wanted -- to live in a quaint little home on the side of a mountain, tucked back in the peaceful wilderness. Now I have exactly that, and I do not feel happiness. While I was in therapy this past year, my therapist and I discovered that my anxiety is rooted in fear - the fear of losing control. This past month, I have had very little control over my life. I have more or less been at the mercy of those taking care of us, and I thank God that they were incredibly kind, gracious, generous people. I don't know where we would be without them. I also know that I wouldn't have made it through this past month without my husband, who is more familiar with this area and way of life. In the grand scheme of things, we have been incredibly fortunate. We have had a comfortable place to live and sleep, good food in our bellies, clothes on our backs, a working vehicle, and enough money to get by. In the grand scheme of things, the world will not end if I can't pay my credit card bills. This move has been a lesson in what to be grateful for, and what in this life is absolutely necessary. I have learned to really appreciate quiet time, hiking boots, healthy food, good razors, and temperature control. I have also learned what true charity is, and the kind of person I want to be. Somewhere along the course of my life, I was taught that the most important thing in this world and the primary indicator of my character was how I handled money. I was also (unfortunately) taught that receiving help from people was a double-edged sword; I could accept the gift, but I had better make sure I used it in a way they would approve, and pay them back in a timely manner. This past year, and especially this past month, has taught me otherwise. This area is poor. Very poor. And this area is also full of the nicest people you will ever meet. People who instantly make you feel comfortable, people who don't judge, people who will tell you their life story and then invite you over for dinner before you've had a chance to say anything about yourself, and they always end the conversation with "If you need anything, you just let me know." Every...single...time. The truth is, I have everything I've ever wanted. I am living in a colorful, quaint house on a beautiful mountainside that could easily be a coveted air bnb. I am surrounded by mountains and streams and infinite beauty and have hiking trails literally right outside my back door. I am married to a wonderful man and have a happy marriage. In one week, I will be reunited with my two adorable kittens. I even have a well-paying job that includes writing, which I love to do. I have everything I have dreamed about for so long...I just have to get my brain to accept that it is okay to be happy.