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Former Charleston + current D.C. resident Ashlan Andrews shares her favorite memories of Charleston that make her homesick for the Lowcountry.
Pat Conroy said it best: “You can be moved profoundly by other vistas, by other oceans, by soaring mountain ranges, but you can never be seduced. You can even forsake the Lowcountry, renounce it for other climates, but you can never completely escape the sensuous, semitropical pull of Charleston and her marshes.”
This past May, I moved from Charleston, S.C. to Washington, D.C.. I did not grow up in Charleston, but I did call it my home for three wonderful years. I ignorantly assumed the move from Charleston to D.C. would be pretty simple. I’ve lived overseas twice, I’m an extremely adaptable person, + I like exploring new places.
What I didn’t factor into the equation, though, was that the other two times I’ve moved to a new place by myself, I’ve left places that were easier to leave. Going from Columbia, S.C. to Thailand was a piece of cake. Studying abroad in college was bearable because let’s face it: I was a college student living in Spain – life was great.
But this time, I moved somewhere new, and the place I left was Charleston. Sometimes I ask myself why I ever left. Ever since I was a child, my family would vacation on Seabrook Island and I would beg my parents to take us to Charleston for the day. I would walk through the markets envisioning my adult self living in a house downtown (oh, how naïve I was) + going on runs in the morning + walking through the market after the run + sitting on my porch drinking my coffee … well, you get the gist. Even as a young child, I knew I was destined to live in Charleston at some point.
So when the opportunity arose three years ago, I jumped at the chance. I applied to graduate school at The Citadel. I got my masters in International Politics. I graduated, I started working at Blackbaud, and then … I felt deeply dissatisfied with my job. So the great question began: what’s better – to live in a city you love + stay at a job you dislike, or to pursue your dreams but move away from your favorite city in the whole world? I chose the latter. I quit Blackbaud, I accepted an internship at the Hudson Institute, and here I am, 531 miles (I just checked) away from the first place I truly felt was home.
I can’t help but wonder if I’m being dramatic. Interning at the Hudson Institute has been immensely more satisfying than my job at Blackbaud (Blackbaud is a good company, but I was a cold caller and it nearly broke me – I’m not destined for sales). And D.C. is an international city with great public transportation, wonderful restaurants, + tons of history to explore. I mean, D.C. is the center of the world. I could go on a run to the White House if I wanted to!
All I know, though, is that my body and mind are here, but my heart and soul are in Charleston. I think it’ll be that way for a while. I honestly feel like I’m going through a bad break up. I miss everything about that damn city: the Ravenel, sunrise runs on Sullivan’s, Saturday afternoons spent wondering the beautiful streets downtown (I’m looking at you, Church St.), Sunday mornings at Seacoast Church, Thursday happy hours at Shelter, Friday nights at Red’s listening to Midnight City … so many wonderful places + memories, and that’s not even half of what I miss.
That smell – you don’t get that anywhere else. And no, I’m not talking about the paper mill. I’m talking about the smell of the marsh when you’re on the way to the beach and your windows are rolled down and you breathe in that salty air and thank God for giving us a place as beautiful as the South Carolina Lowcountry. I’m not sure what the future holds for me, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I do know this: one day, I will once again call Charleston my home.
