And one cold day in January 2020, I arrive in Charleston.

*

It’s my first stop on a solo road trip around the U.S.—my circuitous search for where I belong. I’m instantly enthralled.

Walking through downtown, I start picking out where I’d live if I lived here. I see the sparkling nights, the easy friendships, the strolls down cobblestone streets—
as if I’m remembering a future memory.

I see my life in this pastel, haunted city: swanky, urbane, a Southern version of my old life in New York. Maybe this is home.

But I’m only here for lunch. I wander, looking for a cheap restaurant, but mostly taking pictures—doorways that lead outside, jungle-like churchyards, feathered mannequins outside boutiques.

I text the photos to people back home.
They are so much further away than they were this morning.

In the end, I don’t eat lunch. I drink black coffee from a red mug on an empty stomach (mistake), writing in my journal at a mirrored table, wondering if this is a new beginning—
or just a daydream.

☕✨ Maybe the search for home is a necessary — and beautiful — part of arriving there.

💜 P.S. If you feel the pull to explore your own story this way, join me in The Memoir Circle — a six-month writing group for women beginning in January.

Fill out the form below to apply.

I’m Kimberly, ghostwriter & book coach who specializes in memoir with themes of relationships, spirituality, and mental health. I’d love to see what unfolds when you start dreaming your past on the page.