I recently listened to a podcast (I Only Listen to the Mountain Goats: “The Mess Inside”) that talked about happiness and a person’s current location. Basically, they talked about how people will feel miserable in a place thinking it’s the place, and if they move away to another city they will magically feel better.

The gentlemen in this podcast said that if you are miserable, being in a different city isn’t going to change that. You are still you no matter where you are, and if you are unhappy in one place, you will be unhappy somewhere else. “No matter where you are, there you are.” They said that the idea is to find the good in your situation.

Find out what’s awesome about that place. I don’t think they ever came out and said, “Happiness is not a place,” but that was the gist of it. While I could not agree more that happiness is a choice and that it comes from within, I have a little bit of a different perspective.

I grew up in a small town, up until the age of 25. This small town is planted in the deep south, way down in Texas. Being in a tight-knit community was what I wanted, it shaped me, taught me everything I know, instilled values in me, and I didn’t need anything else. Or so I thought.

At the same time, I was chronically depressed, I had little to no self-esteem, and yet, in the same fell swoop, I had it in my head that I was better than everyone else. I was judgmental, and when I was much younger, I had something to say about anyone who was different than me. I was close-minded.

Funnily enough, though, I didn’t know any of these things about myself at the time. Go figure.

Fast forward a little bit. In 2013, my husband got a new job about 300 miles away from our hometown, about an hour’s drive outside of Dallas. Within a month of knowing we might move, we packed up our two kids and Great Dane and left.

At the time, my husband’s aunt, uncle, and two cousins lived in this town. They were the only people we knew here. Within a year of us living here, they moved back home. Aside from work acquaintances, we knew no one.

(I should note that one of my best friends I’ve known my whole life lived about an hour away, but we rarely saw each other for a while after I moved. Why? I’m not sure, actually.)

For a while, I was still depressed, had low self-esteem, and blamed my husband for my unhappiness because he ripped me away from my friends and family. So far, I was trending in the direction the gentlemen from that podcast said that miserable people go.

But something happened.

Being in a brand-new place where I didn’t know anyone gave me a lot of quiet time. I had a lot of time to look inside myself and really listen. I found things inside myself that I didn’t know existed. I didn’t have an entire town of people watching me, telling me what I should do, how I should live, and what I should believe.

When you’re around nobody, it’s impossible to blame toxicity on other people. Looking back at my life back home, I was around a lot of toxicity. After I moved, I realized I had become noxious as well. Being alone allowed me to cleanse my spirit of toxicity and negativity. (I would like to add that not everyone around me was toxic, but I still felt like I was expected to be a certain way around everyone I was around.)

I had to learn how to meet complete strangers without the support of having mutual friends around. (I am a very introverted person and get very awkward in social situations, so this was—and still is—a huge deal for me.) I had to learn how to do things without being able to drop my kids off with my mom. I started going out of my way more so I could see the friends I did have, and I found a new appreciation for them.

I learned that it was okay to not believe what I was raised to believe. I learned there is more than one way to live, there’s more than one path to success, and—most of all—happiness is internal. Being happy is a choice you have to make daily.

In a nutshell, I found myself, and I love her.

All that being said, I am almost certain I would never have reached this point had I stayed in the monotony of my hometown. If I had, Lord knows how long it would have taken. (I might have been miserable until I turned 80.)

In order to find myself and my peace, I had to get away from everyone I knew. The person was back then was a collection of all the people I knew. I had it in my head that I had to listen to everyone and had to try to make everyone happy.

It wasn’t until I got away from it all did I learn what I want, what’s best for me and my family. I found what I believe in. And I’m so certain that my life and my path are right, because I don’t have 20 different people advising me.

Now, I can go back home for visits with confidence in myself and not really care nor worry about what everyone else will think. It’s not because I moved to a new city, but at the same time, it is because I moved to a new city. The place we moved to actually isn’t that different than the place we left. The people aren’t really that different, either. The difference is my relationship with them—it’s nonexistent.

By getting away from everything I knew, a new world was opened up to me. I learned more about life and the world and am becoming a better version of myself every day—a version not contaminated with the opinions of others.