How it started vs how it's going: my interstate tree change

Just over eight months ago my husband and I made the move out of Sydney to the town of Wangaratta, 45 minutes south of the NSW border in the beautiful North East of Victoria.

It was a decision that seemed, on reflection, inevitable to everyone but ourselves. We'd spent over 12 years together raising a family and building careers in the sometimes overwhelming suburbs of Sydney. Every few months we'd head six hours southward for the respite of clean country air, time with my family and a break from the pace.

Raising children is hard, especially when two professional people care deeply about the work they do. It's even harder when you have no family close by. It's difficult to impart to those who haven't experienced the isolation of raising children without family around, but it is genuinely one of the hardest things I've ever done, and we did it for 10 years.

When our second child, Milo, started school in 2020, we thought we'd conquered it. Finally! Life would be so much easier! We'd envisioned less juggle, more energy for our work, more time for our kids outside of school. Lols. We all now how that turned out.

Life throws us challenges

During COVID when thousands around us left the cities for the regions to take advantage of remote working, we stayed the course. Sydney was where we wanted to be. Our roots grew deeper as we built a community around the local school; our kids building friendships and making lasting memories. We renovated our 'forever home'; an extreme activity both for sanity and finances, and not for the faint-hearted in a heritage conservation area in the Inner West.

But along came 2023. It was only when we were faced with the immense struggle of ongoing ill-health that we were forced to reevaluate what we needed. And the answer was very simple.

When it came time to let go, it happened quite fast.

Heartland

Surprise: I am incredibly happy in the country. I spent a lot of time in the North East as a kid, and I pinch myself every single day when I see the violet shades of distant mountains in every direction, farmland all around me. The smell of the air, particularly at night, is distinctive; the stars abundant and wholly visible, even in town. If I'm honest, I now realise that I've been wanting to live in the country for the past 20 years or so. How did I hide this from myself?

I hike almost every week to the most beautiful places. Mostly I venture out with my sisters, but occasionally, I find local trails and go for a run. Whilst pounding the pavement of the Bay Run for the past few years, I've been dreaming of trails like these, and here they are. I've even gotten my 20-year-old road bike refurbished and have taken advantage of the hundreds of kilometres of local trails that lead in every direction.

Returning to activities we enjoyed in our formative years has a wonderful way of reminding us of who we still are beneath the complexities and demands of modern life.

I find time to paint, almost every day. My balcony has become my studio as I squeeze the last of the daylight out during the cooler months, and the bone-dry weather dries my canvases in no time at all. I've entered local art shows, sold some works, and am endlessly inspired by the beauty of the landscape all around me.

Swings and roundabouts

The swings: the kids attend a local private school that costs, I-kid-you-not, one-tenth of the price per annum of the private schools we had registered them for in Sydney. It boasts a wonderful culture, expansive grounds with views to the mountains and off into the King Valley, and I have been really impressed with the genuine care and authenticity demonstrated from the entire community while we've been there. The kids settled in academically and socially right away, which was a welcome surprise to us.

Being able to drop around to my parents and have a cup of tea and a chat is something you can't put a price on. As is the relationship that my kids are building with them as they spend regular time together. My parents aren't getting any younger, I am so thankful that I am now able to see them so often.

The roundabouts: Wangaratta, population: 26,000 is not quite the commercial hub that Sydney is, especially when it comes to drumming up business. Amadeus Brand slowed down a little, which was a welcome relief in 2023 as we settled into our new surroundings, but as 2024 gets going, leaves me with somewhat itchy feet to do more.

I've been engaged by a few local businesses for brand and website development, and it's been rewarding to discover the nuances of doing 'business in the bush'. The marketing nerd in me loves learning about their business operations and clientele, and it's work I hope to win more of as I find my feet in the community.

On balance

I was surprised at the amount of people who expressed envy when they heard of our move. Many dream of migrating to other places and leaving the city behind. My tree-change experience would have me encourage them to act now! Finally honour that draw to cleaner air; do what makes you happy. But then I remember the isolation of raising a family without extended family around. It's a fine balance.

The tree change has been an enormous success. It's exceeded our expectations - we fully expected to grieve the loss of leaving Sydney, but we're too focused on delighting in the joy that comes with a slower pace of life. We've visited en famille twice, and I've been back to meet with clients a few times, and that has been enough to fill our cups. I can't see us ever straying far for long.

Onwards into 2024. Whilst I don't go in for resolutions, I do have an agenda. More hiking, biking, running, painting and continuing to brand businesses for big things. How lucky am I?