One year ago, our family moved to rural southwest Missouri in hopes of building a slower, more intentional life. Between rising living costs, graduate school expenses, and the desire to be closer to family, we knew we needed a lifestyle that felt more sustainable for this season of life.

That decision completely changed the direction of our everyday life. We moved away from what had become familiar and settled into a much quieter area with more space, slower surroundings, and a different vision for the future. At the time, the decision felt both exciting and incredibly overwhelming because it came during an already busy season filled with work, parenting, and graduate school.

The move was not spontaneous or impulsive. It came after years’ worth of conversations about what kind of life we wanted long-term, where we wanted to be, and what mattered most. We knew we wanted more acreage, to be closer to family, and eventually the opportunity to build a home of our own one day.

This led to the decision to sell our beautiful “dream house” with the intention of saving for a few years. For now, we have moved into my grandmother’s old house, which added an entirely different layer of meaning to the transition. There is something emotional about living in a home connected to family history and memories. Even now, a year later, there are moments when the house still feels deeply nostalgic while also slowly becoming our own.

At the same time, the move was also practical. The cost of living continues to rise almost everywhere, and like many families, we have felt the pressure of balancing daily expenses, raising a child, and planning for the future. In addition, the grant for my education was cut, leaving us to pay for my graduate school out of pocket. Before, it felt impossible to keep up with everything financially while also trying to build a life that felt sustainable. Having downsized has given us space to breathe.

Most importantly, moving helped us build the kind of support system we wanted around our family. One of the biggest reasons behind the move was the desire to be by family.

Because the truth is, it really does take a village.

One of the most important parts of this move involved our daughter. We wanted her to experience a smaller school environment where relationships felt more personal, and community felt easier to build. While she didn’t go to a huge district, we found that she often flew under the radar. For this season of life, we felt drawn toward something smaller and more connected.

Working in education has also shaped the way I think about childhood, stress, and the pace families are expected to maintain. Every day, it feels like children are growing up in a world that moves faster and demands more. Between technology, extracurricular activities, and constant pressure to achieve, we felt a growing desire to create a calmer environment for our own family life. What is most important is that our daughter feels “seen” and is able to form deep roots in our community. Our move enabled this, while also providing opportunities for enrichment and connection.

That does not mean life suddenly became simple. There are still rushed mornings, stressful evenings, and weeks where everything feels overwhelming. But there is also more room to slow down now, and that has mattered more than I expected.

The past three years have also been one of the busiest seasons of life professionally and academically. Balancing full-time work in a school while completing my master’s degree has stretched our capacity. There have been nights spent studying after work, assignments completed between daily responsibilities, and constant attempts to keep everything moving forward at once.

Paying for graduate school out of pocket has added another layer of pressure to everyday life. Like many families right now, we are constantly trying to balance future goals with present realities. There is always another medical bill, another expense, another responsibility waiting.

That reality is that slower living has become so important to me over the last few years. Most of the time, our pace of life is not slow.  But by intentionally creating moments of peace, we can avoid complete burnout and build a more intentional way to connect with each other.

Sometimes that looks like sitting outside after work for a few quiet minutes before going inside. Sometimes it looks like watering plants at sunset or drinking coffee by the window before the day begins. Those moments may seem small, but during stressful seasons, small moments become grounding.

Modern life often encourages independence to the point of exhaustion. The older I get, the more I realize how important community actually is. People are not meant to carry everything alone. It is easy to romanticize major life changes. Social media often makes moving, rural living, or slower lifestyles appear perfectly peaceful all the time. In reality, meaningful transitions are usually messy.

There are still unfinished projects around the house. We have junk piles around the property, flooring to replace, and shop lights in our kitchen. There are still spaces we want to improve. There are weeks when the laundry piles up, dinner is convenient, and the garden gets neglected for a few days.

But honestly, I think there is beauty in that too.

Because this season of life is not about perfection.

It is about building a life slowly.

A life where ambition and simplicity can exist together. A life where graduate school, career goals, parenting, and slower evenings outside do not constantly have to compete with each other.

Over the last year, success has started to look very different than it used to. Success no longer feels connected only to productivity or constantly accomplishing more. Instead, success looks more like creating a grounded home environment, building meaningful routines, staying connected to family, and learning how to enjoy ordinary moments again.

And maybe that is really what this move was about all along.

Not escaping life.

Not creating a perfect version of country living.

But creating a life that feels more connected, sustainable, and meaningful during a season where everything else often feels fast and overwhelming.

0