Secrets of the Blood: My DNA Leaves Cleveland

It was supposed to be one year.

I arrived in Cleveland in October, 2003. After accepting an offer with one of the biggest firms in the area, I had intended to stay for exactly twelve months.

I didn’t know anyone in this city and I had my sights on getting out of the Midwest. Specifically, someplace warm. Somewhere where I didn’t have to shrug my shoulders because of the wind and the snow. Somewhere that was, well, South.

Instead, life happened.

The first five years in Cleveland were all about the build: building professionally, building financially and building socially. The company that hired me opened all kinds of doors and opportunities. This led to annual salary increases and, also, incredible global travel.

But the best part of those first five years – the part that has cemented itself deep into the crevices of my veins – was meeting and befriending the beautiful people that welcomed me into their lives. These people – brilliant, funny and big-hearted – formed a little home away from home family and together we celebrated everything: birthdays, holidays, promotions. Together we laughed, we broke bread, we walked this city’s streets and we laughed some more.

2007, specifically, was an incredible year. So much good happened, to so many of us, that it was hard to even grasp what was possible. In this Midwest town. Who knew? We knew.

In 2008, things began to shift. My friends – temporary imports – began to gradually leave for better opportunities. Most moved to the West Coast. Some to Chicago. Some to the East Coast. One even back to Europe. Regardless, they no longer found Cleveland home. And my little friendship family began to dismantle.

As, that year, did my job. My personal life. My health. And everything else with it.

By the time 2009 rolled around, welcoming Clevelanders with a brutal, cold, harsh and snowy winter, life felt empty.

I could have left town then. But didn’t. Perhaps I didn’t because I felt like I had something to prove? Perhaps I didn’t because I didn’t want to leave while my stock was low? Perhaps because, well, I got used to this city. It was the thing I knew. At a time when nothing else seemed recognizable.

Looking back now, I probably could have done a few things things differently during 2009. But there were experiences to live. Lessons to learn. Karma to clean.

And I’m glad I stayed. Because an interesting transition began to happen.  After a 20 year career within the corporate walls, here, in Cleveland, my inner artist finally came out. And Cleveland served as a brilliant and fabulous muse. How do I know this? Because I wrote a script called Cleveland. I wrote and produced a song called “Cleveland Rising.” I had four photography exhibits, all of which featured Cleveland.

And that very script led me to the one person who became my Tipping Point.  This man read my script. He then sent me to LA, to study with the industry’s top writers. Six months later, he called me regarding a teaching job at Cuyahoga Community College. That December, I also started writing for Cool Cleveland. And two years later, I began teaching at Cleveland State University.

Suddenly, I – the person who felt like an outsider everywhere and all the time – felt like I belonged somewhere. I belonged here. Cleveland embraced me. Even when it was being its most abrasive.

Yet, in its most encompassing, its most inviting and its most persuasive pull, two critical details continued to linger: Cleveland is cold in the Winter. Cleveland men and I don’t click. At least not long term.

The former detail is an obvious observation and after living on three of the five Great Lakes, my bones just can’t take it anymore. The latter? For whatever reason, the men I seemed to continuously draw in – regardless of religion, education or profession – all had another woman that got in the way of our relationship. That woman? The man’s mother.

One man I dated insisted in inviting his parents to our dates. Another called me each night, but from his mother’s house. One forgot he had plans to see me because his mother made him clean her house in time for her house guests. I can’t make this up. There’s a weird Freudian / Psycho / Eastern European shtetyl mentality that I never experienced anywhere else I’ve lived and I’ll never understand it. But mothers of grown sons in this town love to keep their sons close to them. A little too close. And it’s relationship prohibitive. At least it’s been for me. For ten long, cold years.

And, so, one decade after first arriving here and five years since the transformation from corporate manager to entrepreneur began, it truly is time to move on.  I’m leaving this city on my terms. Not when I’m down – as I was five years ago – but when I’m up, again, after working my ass off to get to this place of professional and geographical freedom.

I’m going to continue to write my books and to grow my Career Coaching business and I love the fact that I can do both from anywhere and now have clients everywhere. I’m grateful that Cool Cleveland has asked me to stay on staff and further build the Career ToolBox column we started four years ago. And I’m also thankful that after four and a half years of teaching, nearly 1000 students  – from Cleveland and around the world – have walked into my life.

Cleveland, in its idiosyncratic and regionally rooted spirit, intentionally broke down the life that was and fostered exactly the right environment and the right people to renavigate into the life that’s real. Because the people of Cleveland are as real as they come.

There’s a grit here. And it’s not for the pretentious, the disingenuous or the duplicitous. Whatever your inner bullshit is. Whatever secret you think you can keep. Whatever insecurity you may have. Cleveland will be your mirror to it and will hold you accountable until you admit your own truth.

Now that everything is out and that life is its most authentic self, the moment to let go and move on is here.

I’ll be heading to Chicago for a few weeks and spending some quality time with the fam and my friends, not feeling rushed by a demanding travel schedule. After that stay, it’s off to an adventure. And after that, come Spring, finally heading South, where, hopefully, the bones creak a little less, the sun smiles a little more and the mothers of grown men have their own lives to live.

Wherever I go, one thing’s for sure: Cleveland has now embedded itself into my DNA. It will be with me anywhere and everywhere I go.

Finally, and I say this with humbleness and humility, I hope that some of my DNA – whether with former students or clients, friends or exes, in products or in craft – is now part of Cleveland.

 Photo: A. Sukhoy. 2006.