Fleeing Florida and Evacuating to the Left Coast: An Ongoing Tale

Elizabeth Park
5 min readJun 15, 2023
Photo by Johannes Plenio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/winding-road-photography-1133505/

Today, the reality hit. What the fuck have I done?

Almost two weeks ago, living in Florida as a native Floridian with one of the best jobs I’ve ever had, I decided to change my entire life and move.

At first, it was the planned move — the one that would cut my commute down from an hour and a half each way on the bad days to only about 15 minutes. I was just going up the road a ways. It made sense.

I’d gotten early lease termination, given my notice to vacate. It was going to be worth it to be close to work.

I’d started getting rid of stuff. I was minimalist, right? Shouldn’t be hard.

WRONG. It was grueling. I had to do most of the hauling by myself. I rented Uhaul vans and a pickup truck three different times, plus hauled stuff with my car multiple times. Donation centers, the dump, my son and his girlfriend — my stuff was going everywhere.

By the end, I’d brought in a homeless ex-felon and a newly homeless young adult to help finish, and it was still tight. And the homeless ex-felon had taken a lot of my stuff (much WITH permission, and a number of special things WITHOUT permission), including the chef’s knife and sharpener my son (the chef) had gotten me for my birthday on his meager salary. And my…



Elizabeth Park

Van Gogh fan girl, loves good questions and people who listen, ex-fundamentalist; Spiritual life coach for black sheep salvagingyourstory.com