A Tour of the Geographic Cure

“If you’re sad at home, you will still be sad in Italy.”

This weekend, I traveled to the Green Mountain State to visit my beloved cousins and their delightful children and to help my son move apartments. I found myself driving on scenic Route 7 in the Champlain Valley during that sweet spot of the day when the setting sun casts the world in a beautiful, warm glow. The Vermont landscape, which I love at any old time, was magnificent at this hour of the day. I drove past rolling hills dotted with apple blossoms, quaint farmhouses with classic red barns, and cows frolicking in the fields. Seriously, I saw cows frolic. For the millionth, gazillionth time, I sighed and asked myself, “Why am I not living here?”

If you know me, you know I ponder this question constantly. But you also know I love New Jersey. We’ve created a wonderful life here, and it’s not so easy to pick up the family and move. It’s fun to dream though, and my husband Chris and I trade Realtor.com housing recommendations back and forth via text. Check this one out! 

We hope to have a vacation home in a picturesque setting one day. But here’s the good news: We know that moving to Vermont is not the answer to all our problems. However, that was not always the case for me.

When I graduated high school, I had no plans to attend college. One might say I had a failure to launch fueled by my alcoholic drinking. (Can a failure to launch be fueled by something?) Sure, other factors were at play, but those we’ll save for a different post. The point is: I was stuck in a rut, living with my parents, babysitting for drinking money, with nowhere to go but the bar. One night at the dinner table, my dad looked over, noticed me, and asked my mother, “What is she still doing here?” He took action and decided I should apply to college in…you guessed it…Vermont! 

Although I previously claimed, “Who needs college? Life is an education,” I was now on board with my dad’s plan to give me a higher education. Going away to college, getting out of my town, out of my house, away from the crowd I was hanging with, yes, THAT was what would fix me. I would curb the drinking, eat healthier, go to class, study for tests! I just needed to get out of here and then I’ll become a new person, a better version of myself.  

This is what’s known in the rooms of recovery as a “geographic cure.” The misconception that moving to a new place will fix your problems. The false belief that “It’s this town and these people that are making me miserable. If I could just live somewhere else, everything would be better!” If only it were that easy. Most of us with some life experience know the truth: wherever you go, there you are. You cannot escape yourself. 

For a short amount of time, when I moved to college in Vermont, I did become a better version of myself. I actually lost weight instead of gaining the Freshman Fifteen because I drank less at college than I did at home. For a little while, at least. The truth was it took some time to find the people who drank like me. Then, I got a boyfriend who was in a fraternity. The fraternity’s motto (no lie) was “Drink more, not less.” So there you have it. Wherever you took this alcoholic, she was going to find the party. My moment to better myself got washed away with shot after shot of Jägermeister, Phi Delta Theta’s house drink. Yuck, I’m gagging thinking about it. It was like spicey cough syrup! 

People in the rooms of recovery often share about their failed attempts at a geographic cure. They lament how they moved to an exotic location only to spend their free time not sightseeing but in a bar. Even in sobriety, people fall for the idea that a new place will turn them into a new person.

Strangely, there is an SNL skit from a few years back that hammers home this point. Adam Sandler plays Joe Romano, a travel agent. In a commercial, Sandler clarifies what his tours of Italy can and cannot do for customers.  

"If you're sad where you are, and then you get on a plane to Italy, the you in Italy, will be the same sad you as before. Just in a new place. Does that make sense?"

And my favorite line: “We can take you on a hike, but we cannot turn you into someone who likes hiking.” 

The skit is not only hilarious but insightful. Check it out here.

Well, that’s my tour of the geographic cure. Will Chris and I get that house in Vermont one day? I hope so, but I know I will be the same me, whether I live in a quaint farmhouse in the Green Mountains or stay in my perfectly nice home in my lovely suburban New Jersey town.

What about you? Did you ever try a geographic cure? Did it work? Let me know below.