Moving to your hometown is not a step back. How can you live in your hometown? Everyone knows you

“That’s what you feel: you’re longing for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe this is some kind of rite of passage, don’t you know?

You know what happens when you realize that the house where you grew up is no longer yours, even if there is your corner where you can settle down, it is no longer your home... One day, you will leave and it will all be over. There is nostalgia for something that no longer exists, perhaps this is a ritual of change…. "Garden Country"

Sometimes in mature age you get the feeling that you need to go to the place where you grew up at all costs.

You buy a train or plane ticket and go on a journey - back to that city or village where you lost your first tooth, where you had your first kiss and where you learned your first life lessons.

You are temporarily leaving behind the life that you created for yourself, a life that means so little compared to the life of your parents.

You take a deep breath and come home.

You arrive in your city and start wandering through the streets that you still know like the back of your hand.

You see your family members again and a wave of memories washes over you. You go to bed in your old bed, where you spent your entire childhood.

You listen to the sounds of your parents' house. You can't sleep for a long time. And you understand that once only here did you feel safe. Then you found yourself in the harsh “big” world, which completely changed you.

It's a sad feeling, really. You have grown up, “ripened”, but at the same time you have lost something. You look at the cracks in your bedroom ceiling, remember the renovation your father did when you were 8 years old, and suddenly you realize that you are no longer as comfortable here as you once were.

You feel like a stranger, a “guest” in this house. Although you know all his secrets. You seem to have memories, but they seem to be about some other life, not your life at all.

At one fine moment it becomes especially obvious that this is your an old house in the old town is no longer your home.

There is your home - there you feel safe. And there is a house where you grew up - and there you feel lost.

It's an overwhelming feeling and it's very strange. Feeling this way is very painful. It’s painful to feel “cut out”, alienated in the place that has always been the embodiment of your comfort zone.

It's difficult, but it's - harsh reality our days. When you come home, this place no longer means to you what it once did. And it's not that you don't have a heart. It’s just that the “home” and “hometown” that were once yours no longer belong to you.

You have a past here, but you don't see a future here.

You drive past your old school and your favorite candy store. But you don't feel anything pleasant. Not a single sensation that I would like to grab onto!

Everything around is permeated with nostalgia. Everything here has its own history. And yet, you don’t want to go back or even think about the past.

You don’t have any desire to ever return to these places and try to live here for a while.

You don't want to be raising children here. You don't want them to take root here. You feel that this city is a long-closed chapter in the book of life. And no matter how long you stay here again, no new memories will appear.

You perceive this city and this apartment more as a vacation spot than a real “home.”

You know that you can relax in the company of your parents or old (former?) friends. He might even learn something new.

But you didn't come here because this is your "home". You just decided to take a break from the worries of “at home” for a while.

You just know that since you were given 14 days of vacation, then some part of it needs to be spent on coming here.

You realize that you no longer have anything in common with your old friends who grew up here.

After you graduated from high school, you suddenly realized that the only thing you had in common with your “school friends” was the fact that you went to the same school.

Whatever happened between you in childhood, you now don’t want to see anyone who grew up next to you when you need to leave the house.

Once you start living in the “real” world, you invariably find people who have similar dreams and aspirations to you. They left their hometowns in order to achieve greater things. Just like you.

You realize how far you've come.

You realize that you have evolved a lot in recent years. This would not be possible in your hometown. You meet people who do the same thing they always do, and you don't want to live like them. You see your progress. How much you've grown.

Sometimes it's fun: going back to your home for a couple of days past life. But this is only because your soul becomes lighter after you see with your own eyes what progress you have made in comparison with many who were initially at the same starting position as you.

You see your classmates who got married, had children, but continue to live on the same street as in the 8th grade. You see their parents still working in the same stores they did 20 years ago. And you understand that this is not the life you would want for yourself.

Perhaps this lifestyle makes them happy, but it certainly would not be enough for you.

The pleasures you once loved have lost their luster.

Once upon a time you loved to go to a restaurant in the center or swim in the lake in this city. You loved your dad's car and barbecues at the local park.

All those activities and places that you once enjoyed and seemed so important now seem small and meaningless.

Going to the movies no longer makes your heart skip a beat.

When you show up at home, you begin to strangely realize how grown up you have become.

You feel like a stranger because you are a stranger.

You feel like a stranger in a strange land in the place you used to call your “home”.

Now you understand that the idea of ​​"home" is very subjective in itself. Just because you grew up here doesn't mean the place belongs to you.

You know: this city and this house will always occupy a piece of your heart. And some cherished memories of this place will forever remain in your head. But still, this is no longer your home.

Curious things happen as we grow up. This realization always comes unexpectedly, but it always comes.

The place you were planning to call "home" after you get to your parents' house (or where people call you while you're roaming) is still waiting for you.

According to statistics, most of them will not return to their hometown. After graduation they will try to find themselves better share- stay in Moscow, move to another Russian city, or, which is the cherished dream of the majority, go abroad. What is the reason for this migration and does it benefit the country and the youth themselves?

To Moscow, to Moscow...

“Currently, only 30% of Muscovites study in the capital’s universities, the rest are visitors,” she said Minister of Education and Science of the Russian Federation Olga Vasilyeva. “Before the introduction of the Unified State Exam, the ratio was the opposite: 70% were Muscovites, 30% were from other cities.” As statistics show, most of visiting students come from nearby Tver, Ryazan, Bryansk, Tula, Kaluga, Volgograd, Smolensk regions. Up to 25% of school graduates leave there, preferring Moscow and St. Petersburg, and most often after graduating from universities they settle in these two cities. The first and most obvious reason here is the lack of budget places in the most popular specialties. Having counted family budget, many parents decide to send their child to Moscow and support him financially there, rather than pay for education near home. This territorial proximity hurts higher education in these regions. First, they use their budget funds to prepare talented applicants, and they are eager to join big cities. The outflow of children with good Unified State Exam scores lowers the ratings of local universities, so even fewer children want to study there.

Moreover, up to 30% of those who graduate from universities in their home region then also move, by hook or by crook, as soon as they receive their diploma, to the two capitals. “We are losing the best children raised by our teachers,” regional authorities complain. But they can’t do anything about this outflow. Therefore, the regional economy suffers - local budgets are spent on training personnel who, under any pretext, try to flee to the capitals. Salaries here are so much higher that they even cover the need to rent a house or take out a mortgage. There are more career prospects here. Moreover, young people are pushed to such moves by their environment and relatives. No matter how well you graduate from a local university, in the eyes of others you will be worse than any C student, but with a capital diploma. Wherever you get a job in your hometown, you look like a loser compared to your classmate who moved to the capital. Even if you are already heading the company, and he is still stuck in the position of sales manager.

...And also to Siberia, to Siberia

Two more regions traditionally in demand by applicants from other regions are the Novosibirsk and Tomsk regions. Here, universities are considered prestigious, and the regions are considered developed and, therefore, offering hope for employment. Another 15 cities - centers of developed regions - are attractive to our youth. And almost a third of the country’s territory, together with its universities, are places where it is extremely difficult to attract one’s own youth, not to mention foreign ones. This mainly concerns the south and east of the country. The socio-economic situation there is so difficult that every parent, almost from the birth of their child, begins to save money for the future move of their offspring to another region. A very difficult situation with higher education in the regions of the North. In Chukotka, for example, there are only separate branches of universities; there are no institutes of their own, because there is no demand. Children, by hook or by crook, are sent for higher education to Mainland and they do everything possible to ensure that they settle there.

Migratory children

And it’s clear what this is connected with. It's not just about prestige. Last year, 75% of graduates were able to find work. And a third of them graduated from either a Moscow or St. Petersburg university. This is precisely related to the fact that up to 35% of people who have barely received a diploma leave their parents’ home in search of work. And, for example, from Ivanovo region or Adygea, 50% of holders of fresh higher education certificates left. Even from Novosibirsk, Tomsk, Tyumen, and Omsk, which are traditionally quoted among applicants, young people also fail as soon as they receive their diploma. Thus, these regions become a kind of transit point. They accept “other people’s” children, give them higher education, and then lose them. At the same time, most of yesterday's students do not return home, trying to find a job where there are prospects for career growth. Let's say quite a lot of yesterday's graduates come to Khanty-Mansiysk.

What's the solution?

Of course, for the regions where the best representatives of youth rush, it is a real benefit. They skim the cream off the most talented and smartest. But such migration does not benefit the country’s economy. The state is interested in each region having its own specialists in all areas - from schools and hospitals to factories and state farms. Also, this nomadic life requires additional funds to create and maintain hostels. That's why Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev actively supported the program for creating flagship universities. 22 regional universities receive state support as having key value for the industrial and socio-economic development of its subjects.

It is important that huge public funds be able to reverse the persistent stereotype: universities in the regions are weaker than those in Moscow. And then the capital’s youth, perhaps, will take off on their own and rush for higher education not to London and New York, but to Tula or Ivanovo.

Question for a psychologist:

Hello. At the age of 17, I left my hometown for a larger city, because there I received a grant to study at a medical institute. Conflict situations I was with my mother, she and I couldn’t find mutual language, so I left after the first opportunity given. In my 2nd year I met a guy, six months later we started renting an apartment together. Now my training is coming to an end. We've been together for 5 years. We were in no hurry to get married, of course I thought about it, but the guy didn’t. I didn’t really insist because I didn’t want to intrude. Then I had to decide which city to conclude a work contract with - 2 years ago, I tried to discuss this with him, to which he said you can choose whatever you want anyway, I chose my town. Then we moved on as if nothing had happened. The last course of study has arrived. I realized that I didn’t want to live in this city, that while studying I felt like I was serving a sentence, I wanted freedom. A guy proposed to me half a year ago. I’m not sure that this was 100% his decision, there was a lot of talk about the wedding, including from his relatives. But I want to go to my town, and I invite him with me. Everyone says that I'm a fool, but I can't help myself. I just can’t imagine life in this city, I can’t imagine how I go to work here, how my future children will live here. My relatives are against me moving. Naturally he is against it. and now within last year We're in hell with him. he doesn’t want to come to me, I’m stuck here like 2 sheep. The hard thing in this situation is that no one understands or supports me and everyone says that he won’t go anywhere with me. This makes me feel even worse. His mother-in-law adds fuel to the fire - they live in the village - almost every week she comes up with a reason for him to go there all weekend. I can not do that. I want him to pay attention to me. He good guy, they raised him well, he tries to help everyone, but this means he spends less time on me. Apart from my boyfriend, I have no attachments in this city, that’s why I want us to leave together. I made a decision for myself - I’m leaving in 2 months. But I'm wondering if I'm doing the right thing. What do you think? Or what would you do in my place? Thank you.

Psychologist Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Sologubova answers the question.

Svetlana, hello!

How many times in life do we have to make a choice: between “want” and “should”, between duty and desire, between two objects that are equally attractive to us, or vice versa - between something unattractive to us, etc. These kinds of choices have to be made every day. But you are on the threshold of a very serious step that can predetermine your entire future life! And, naturally, it is very important not to make a mistake, so as not to reproach yourself later, not to reproach yourself if reality does not live up to your expectations.

And in this case, Svetlana, the question arises of choosing between your loved one and, as you think, a life that is comfortable for you. This is an extremely difficult choice, and before making it, you need to answer yourself, just answer honestly the question: “What exactly draws you home?” and “How dear to you is your boyfriend?”

I am very familiar with the situation when you want to climb into your shell, where it is very warm, cozy, and most importantly familiar and familiar, simply out of fear of not changing anything in your life...

As I understand from the letter, you have not lived in your hometown for about 7 years - this is a decent amount of time to adapt to a new place, to get used to the city and the people living in it. This is not about falling out of love with your hometown, no, it will forever remain in your heart...

In addition, as far as I understand, you have a very difficult relationship with my mother, but at least at first I will have to live with her. How will this life turn out? After all, she is probably already used to being alone and clashes between you will most likely be inevitable.

As for your relationship with a young man, you demand a lot from him - he must quit his job and his family in order to be with you. Svetlana, you leave him no choice - this is a kind of ultimatum that puts pressure on him! Put yourself in his shoes - what is it like to stand at a crossroads? You expect him to support you, but how often do you support him?

Another question that arose in me while reading your letter is what is the reason for the sharp reluctance to go to classes and live in this city (after all, such a feeling has not arisen for 5 years). Perhaps something was the impetus for such changes, perhaps somewhere deep down in your soul you want your young man to be away from his family and then he will be yours and only yours, undividedly...

You can’t step into the same river twice, never go back to where you were already good, don’t look back - if these tips could be downloaded on the Internet, they would certainly be at the top. Giving them is not considered shameful: after all, anyone modern man I know that life does not stand still, there is no need to turn to the past when there are so many interesting things in the future. But the stories of our heroines prove that sometimes so-called useful advice is just a common place, returning to where it was already good is not only possible, but also necessary, you can enter a river countless times, and the concept of “interesting” does not depend on temporary segments and geography.

Polina Tamuzha, producer of special projects. Returned to Riga after 10 years in London, now a mother of two children

It took another couple of months to finish all my business in Moscow, after which I bought a one-way ticket. I rented a room in Kaspiysk and began renovations. It soon became clear that my clumsy business plan had failed: money, including credit and borrowed from relatives and friends, had run out, I couldn’t find confectioners - no one wanted to go to the startup, instead of a counter they brought a piece of stainless steel. But it was necessary to pay installments for the apartment under construction and pay for the rented one. I went to the sea and cried. I thought that was it, this was a failure, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t handle it...

But I did it. Last month confectionery "Sweets and joys" celebrated its first anniversary. My staff consists of 10 confectioners, two designers, two administrators, a salesperson, a courier driver and a clean manager (she really doesn’t like being called a cleaner). A new construction project is in full swing - we are opening a flagship project in the most advanced area of ​​the city, in terms of sales we have reached second place among confectionery shops (of which there are not three, but five), and yesterday we sold a franchise to Vladivostok.

This story has a lot important point: 12 years ago I left Dagestan with great resentment. My relatives abandoned me, I was an outcast to whom no one wanted to shake hands. And this is not pathos, but Caucasian traditions, so returning to Dagestan seemed like a utopia not only to me, but also to my loved ones: it’s unrealistic, they will find you there, eat you whole, etc. And in general, why break away from your favorite place into an incomprehensible wilderness? Only losers do this. But I live in Kaspiysk and am infinitely happy. And for some reason, right now it seems that the world has become more accessible and larger.

“I have a sister who lives in Moscow. She is completely unhappy there. But she doesn’t want to return to Chelyabinsk because she’s afraid of being labeled a loser. What should I tell her?,” one girl from Chelyabinsk recently wrote to me.

Below is a post and stories about leaving major cities, where provincials come for a big dream or money, and how they return to their native lands.

My history

...I came to Moscow from Ufa to go to university. On that day, when my feet just set foot at the Kazan station, I said to myself with the face of a winner: “I will never return to Ufa!”

I adored our beautiful capital, and I had many hopes connected with Moscow. It seemed that everything would work out instantly successfully. I was almost sure: at the age of 21 I would have everything I wanted.

When I left the province, my friends said: “Moscow is a city of great opportunities. There are more chances to succeed there.”

And everything seemed to be fine outwardly - you read. But in 2012, completely lost, I returned to my hometown. And again I said: “I will never return to Moscow!”

Now (I want to believe) I have become wiser and I simply cannot promise: I don’t know where I will be in a couple of years. The main conclusion that was drawn is very simple:

“Sometimes in order to take two steps forward, you have to take one step back.”

Four insights

...4.5 years have passed. My first book came out, I’m writing my second. I fly to Moscow to perform and conduct master classes. If that girl - 12 years ago - had been told that the main changes and the main triumph would begin from Ufa, she would not have believed it.

And here are four things I wish I could have told myself back then. (Don’t be confused by the fact that I will call other cities “provincial”. This is for ease of understanding).

1. You can return if you know why.

My colleague Marina returned to her hometown of Perm after several years in Moscow. She said that she left because she started going crazy. “My life was unbearable. I worked 16 hours to pay rented apartment and I'm going. It was some kind of vicious circle. But I had a dream - to create clothes. When I returned to Perm, I did this. In 5 years I have never regretted my decision. I got married in Perm, and my brand goes to Russian level. Small cities have their advantages. There is usually less competition here. And if you return with “Moscow baggage,” then you have a clear head start. If you know why you are returning, you don’t need to become attached to Moscow.”

And, by the way, now Marina, who has successfully gotten back on her feet, is thinking about returning to Moscow. But already as a designer.

2. Sometimes it is better to be a king in the provinces than to be a nobody in Moscow.

I remember once, when I was still living in Moscow, a friend from Samara came to visit me. He was a restaurant manager and he did it brilliantly. “Why don’t you move to Moscow,” I wondered. And he replied: “I made a choice for myself. Sometimes it’s better to be a king in the provinces than to be a nobody in Moscow.”

Here, too, everyone chooses for themselves: where and how they want to feel.

3. Taking a step back prevents you from losing.

Our own Path is unique. And he's a weird guy who likes flexibility. By leaving a “prestigious” job or moving to a provincial town, you do not take a step back. This is just part of the Path.

“At first, nothing worked out for me in Moscow. I had to leave with my tail between my legs. I felt like a huge failure. I was ashamed in front of my relatives. But an inner voice kept saying: “You need to come back.” I went to Penza and opened my own pizzeria. And then I realized that I had to move to Moscow again with new experience and already launched a pizzeria here. And everything was flooded! Maybe it was a “step back,” but it was the one that pushed me several meters forward. This is such a paradox,” says Sasha.

4. Every city is good for certain things.

For example, in Ufa there is less going on and far fewer distractions. And this is very good for writing.

My friend, a native Muscovite, moved from Moscow to Sochi. When I heard this, I told her: “Well done!” She responded: “Please say it again! And I have such a feeling of guilt... All my friends say that I am “oversexed.” But I just want peace of mind.”

The point of this post is that you need to learn to feel your Path. You cannot confidently say: “You will succeed in everything in Moscow.” Likewise, it cannot be said that those who returned are failures. So: if you feel that you need to go “home” or to another city, go. Nobody knows what awaits you there.

The question is not where is it better: in Moscow or on the periphery. The question is where is best for you specifically. And right now.

Good luck to you, returnees!