the end of an era in atlanta

September 14, 2015 Whitney Saxon

Chris and I have recently had the pleasure of honeymoon planning, which has opened my mind up to all of the incredible places I'd like to visit. We've been tossing around ideas about living for short stints in foreign countries and volunteering here and visiting there. We've been building different versions of our paradise.

It has me thinking about where I really want to live. If we weren't tied to a jobs and residences, where would we go? What would our next step look like?

The answer is actually quite simple.

I'd go where my people are. Not just some of them, though. Where all of the people I love are is my paradise. Even though I strongly dislike winter, if I knew all the people I love could live within a few minutes of my front door, I'd bear months and month of winter. I'd don all sorts of coats and hats and I'd walk over to their front doors and knock my glove-clad hand on them.

For me, home and happiness are much more clearly defined by people than geography.

During the last two years, I've had the absolute joy of living in a mini paradise. You see, all at once, during the summer of 2013, my brothers moved to Atlanta, I met a great new friend, Megan and I met wonderful Chris. And then, Megan, Duke and Sam all moved to Melly and my street. And then I fell in love with Chris. And then? Our friends Katie & Austen moved to our street. And before I knew it, seven people I loved dearly were all within reach. Not just within reach, but within a half mile walk.

And I started thinking that if I could just convince another couple hundred people to move to our little neighborhood, I'd stay here forever. We could bunk up if we ran out of space, I think.

Life has been so good during the last two years. Time has suspended in a way; it has felt like much longer than two years and has become a defining period of our lives. And yet, it has been a blink. It feels like just yesterday Duke & Sam moved here and it's hard for me to fathom that things are already changing.

But, change, they say, is good for us. Which I'm trying to remember as Sam moves home to Indiana and this season comes to a close. He's starting a new job and getting to live in the same city as his beautiful girlfriend, Abbey.

I am thrilled for him. And I am so excited to see what adventures are coming for our group of friends.

But, with every bit of joy I have for the next season comes a little bit of sadness. I can't imagine not living and working with Sam. I am so grateful for the last two years we've had as friends and housemates. We've grown closer, learned to understand one another as adults and he has become one of my very best friends.

So today, I'm pausing to reflect on what the last two years have meant. They have been, in no uncertain terms, lovely. They have prepared us for the next chapter of our lives and taught us who were are. They have been, at times, idyllic. And I couldn't feel more grateful for every minute of them. It is with absolute gratitude that we send him off into the next season. So, here's to you, Sam, and the last two years we've had you in Atlanta.

Five Facts from a Guy #13 {how i knew she was the one}

September 11, 2015 Whitney Saxon

Happy Friday! I'm at a retreat deep in the woods of south Georgia getting my camp on! Here to check in today is Ray, who married my great friend Jamie. I talked a lot about their relationship after their wedding, but I'm always willing to reiterate again just how much I love them together. Some people just click and everyone around them sees it. That's Jamie and Ray. Today he's talking about he knew she was the one. His post brought tears to my eyes - I love hearing how she knew our girl was his girl.

And, in case you've missed them, catch up on the previous Five Facts from a Guy posts. (also I know some of my internal back links are broken - the designer who moved my blog said it should be fixed today. Sorry for the delay!)

1. Respect. I do not believe that any relationship can exist without mutual respect, but the respect that I had for her from the start was very different than any other relationship I had been in.

When we met my wife was living at home and teaching in the suburbs. I still shutter at the thought of the few weeks I lived at home after graduation, but as much as I dreaded that experience I respected her for it. When I was the impatient guy that needed to move right to the city and go out 6 nights a week, she was the thoughtful measured girl who lived at home and saved money. While I wanted to go out and act like an animal and spend every penny that I made she was thinking about the long term and doing what was best personally and professionally. I have so often thought about how much more money I would have saved and how many hangovers I would have avoided had I gone that route and the lack of everything that prevented me from doing that I immediately respected in her.

2. Go with the flow. This is not always easy for me and I am pretty regimented in some of my routines and beliefs, but she became a calming presence.

My wife has celiac disease and when we first started dating in 2010 gluten free everything was not nearly as prevalent as it is today. After a few dates we were out in the city and decided to go to lunch. We picked a place with a cool patio and great food, sat down and she ordered…a salad. It was the only thing she could eat on the whole menu! I was mortified and felt awful, but she just shrugged it off and went with it. I could have never reacted with the ease that she did and since day one she has been a calming presence for me and my anxiety.

3. I wanted to be better. It is a little thing and we all have many superficial concerns when we are dating someone, new or not so new, but for me I started to think about the more substantial improvements that I could make in my life personally and professionally and it was no longer just about what I wanted.

When Jamie and I met I was in a pretty comfortable job and doing really well, but it was not challenging and I felt kind of stuck in neutral professionally. I had a level of comfort and freedom that kept me where I was, but that fall when I got my “raise” I thought, there is no way I could ever support a family if I stay on this track. It was no longer just about my own goal setting; my professional goals had become bigger than just myself and I was starting to think about what I could do to build the best foundation for us, not just me.

4. Subconsciously thinking long term. I am not talking about planning a vacation for next spring, but in the back of my head I started contemplating timelines. Serious timelines.

It was not that I was actively planning out every detail of my life, but I started to consider how long we were together, how old I would be when we got married, how old I would be before we decided to have kids, and the list went on and on. I was imagining major milestones in my life and she was a part of all of them. I stopped short of naming these hypothetical children, but I will admit that I was concerned about them have celiac disease and whether or not I would ever be able to have a beer with my hypothetical son. And then, the most startling thing that when I stopped and thought about what I had just imagined none of it seemed weird at all. And I was happy.

5. Just look at her. From the very first time we met I was laughing and admiring her and it has not stopped.

The first night we met there was a large group of us around my kitchen island taking shots, but Jamie, thinking she was crafty, ran 10 feet over to the sink and dumped hers out and then pretended to take it. When she turned around I was staring at her and we both began cracking up. The laughter turned into a serious discussion about teaching and working with kids and her passion was so obvious and I could tell that these kids really meant something to her. I was laughing, I was attracted, and I was hooked.

We were dating for about three months before I attended a wedding with Jamie in Naperville and met her parents. Since Jamie was in the wedding party and was off taking pictures, her mom took the time to introduce me to some of their family. After introducing me as “Jamie’s friend” three or four times she threw in the towel and started introducing me as “Jamie’s boyfriend”. I didn’t react or argue I just went with it.

Later that night at the wedding I told Jamie that her mom had started introducing me as her boyfriend and there was a look of shock and “oh god what do I do?!?” on her face. I smiled and told her that, I guess, it was accurate and she saved us the trouble of the whole drawn out conversation. When she smiled back and me with her eyes lit up then it was I who threw in the towel because I knew that I was toast and this was it.

advice to someone one year younger

September 2, 2015 Whitney Saxon

Last week I watched (via Cup of Jo) this awesome video: How to Age Gracefully; Advice from Someone One Year Older. It brought tears to my eyes as the people in it aged and shared wisdom to those younger than them.

It got me thinking about things I didn't know when I was younger. Not because someone forgot to teach me or because I was clueless (*I mean, I probably was that, too), but because there are certain situations in life when only time can teach us what we need to know.

I reflected on the last decade or so, and here are the things I wish I'd known:

Dear 16 year old: You are really, really lovely. You might not always think it but, it's true. If you forget it, ask your mom.

Dear 18 year old: College is going to be really fun. But it's also going to be harder, emotionally, than people might tell you. Don't worry, you will adjust.

Dear 20 year old: I know you thought you were going to marry him, but, I promise, there is someone better. First love doesn't mean last love.

Dear 22 year old: A bajillion things are going to change in your life over the next six years. Enjoy them. Embrace them. You will look back and be so grateful that life isn't the same at 28 as it was at 22. (Even if life feels awesome today.)

Dear 24 year old: 25 is not old. Seriously. It's not.

Dear 26 year old: Not all your friends are married. I know it feels that way. But you're not getting left behind. Just taking a road less traveled. Enjoy it.

Dear 28 year old: 30 is still two years away. Don't think too much about it. Just keep doing you.

The Greatest Lessons from My 20s {part 5}

August 31, 2015 Whitney Saxon

This post is part of a five-week series, The Greatest Lessons from my 20s. During the five weeks leading up to my 29th birthday, I'll be discussing the greatest lessons this decade has taught me. Read the most recent post, which is Not to Make Ourselves Smaller here.

image via

Years ago, someone told me to "kill my dreams," which, at the time, I thought was just about the saddest thing I'd ever heard. Kill my dreams?

As I've gotten older, though, I've begun to understand what they meant. It wasn't a cynical-your-dreams-will-never-come-true attitude. Instead, what they were telling me was to stop living in the what I wish was happening and start living in the now.

At the time, I was really struggling with how different the life I thought I was going to have by 26 looked compared to reality. I was single, living in an apartment in Atlanta, working a 9 to 5. The dreams I'd cultivated at 10 years old and gripped with iron fists, refusing to relinquish any part of them, were killing me. So, a friend told me to kill them. Let go of the husband, two babies and life as a stay at home mom I thought I'd have. And instead, make new dreams.

Dream about the tomorrow that may really come true, instead of the tomorrow that was slowly slipping away. Dream big and hard, but don't torture yourself with dreams that aren't meant for you.

Killing those dreams and creating new ones has been, without a doubt, one of the greatest lessons of this decade. The thought of marrying Chris, having gotten to live in the same house at my brothers for the last two years, and pursuing a career in coaching lights me up. These things are what success at 28 has been for me, in my life.

Ten-year-old Whitney maybe would not have thought so. But, by 28 I know and believe that life's dreams aren't meant to be dictated by a younger version of myself. Something I practice a lot is not comparing my current self to my old self. So, I don't compare the way my body looks at 28 to the way it did at 18. That's just unfair to myself. And I don't compare my face at 28 to 16. Because my skin has obviously changed. And that would be unfair, too. In the same way, I refuse to compare my dreams at 28 to dreams I cultivated at a younger age.