Tuesday, December 2, 2008
It seems as though the subject of moving is quite serious and surprisingly important to chefswives. After all, the success of their careers is oftentimes dictated by the city they live in. And you know they can't live without us. I'm not sure if anyone besides me would be willing to share their feelings of resentment towards their chefs for "making them" move.
I know I suffered the first year I live in NY. I hated it here. I hated being far from my family, I hated having not a single friend AND being left alone each night that Erik was working the line. "Why did I move here?...This is all his fault....I'm miserable". Oh yeah, I had some deep resentment, and I still do. I'd like to think that if Erik's job wasn't restraining him to NYC that we'd live on a small 15 acre farm outside of Columbus, Ohio. We'd spend long weekend with my family, host wiener roasts and canoe trips. The state of my dream life, though vivid, is still a dream.
I the end, I love where we live now and I'm pleased with my decisions to move to NY with Erik. Being married to a chef comes with so many things, one of them being a one way ticket to WhereHeWantsToLive-ville.
Knowing all of the heartache I suffered the first year out here I don't think I'd change a thing. And tomorrow if Jean-Georges offered Erik a job in Europe, I'd go. In a heartbeat.
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Labels: chef wife