My hometown looks like thousands of others. It is a sea of manicured lawns, strip malls, and fast food chains some miles outside of a mid-sized city center.
Was life there monotonous?
Absolutely.
Though monotonous, Suburban Cleveland raised me and helped me foster my own sense of self. I haven’t lived there for nearly a decade, but I still know every corner of those 20-ish square miles.
I cruise down Lake Road, with Huntington Beach to my left, and I am 17 again rushing home to meet curfew. I drive past the Dairy Queen and remember the pride of my first paycheck at 14. I walk through the local mall, with its new Dolby movie theater, and I remember feeling independence at 12.
I have mixed feelings about the car-dependent suburbs of America. I wish they were more walkable, community-driven, and diverse. At the same time, I have a deep nostalgia for Suburbia because it was my world for the first 19 years of my life.
Consistency is the Crux of the Issue
My hometown embodies the same duality as every other American suburb.
It is brimming with localized gems and nostalgic echoes of childhood, yet bound by car dependency and stripped of the raw authenticity that urban settings offer.
That tension is exactly what makes Suburbia desirable for so many Americans.
In a world of chaos always at our fingertips and a lack of control over the rising price of gasoline, we all crave a feeling of peace. We nestle into the uniformity of white-picket fences and the consistency of a Wendy’s Biggie Deal because those things feel like safety.
The suburbs feel safe (but by that, I mean dependable).
If you opt in, you get a yard where your kids can play unsupervised. You get familiar menus from streamlined food chains and an endless sea of available off-street parking.
Suburbia never challenges you. I understand that appeal, especially if you are busy raising a young family. However, because it never challenges you, Suburbia makes it very easy to keep things the way they’ve always been, even if the status quo is harmful.
Why advocate for protected bike lanes if you are used to hopping in your car and driving the 2 miles to a pharmacy? Why try the new authentic Mexican restaurant if you know you like Chipotle’s carnitas? Why transform your front yard into a pollinator garden of native wildflowers if all your neighbors keep their grass lawns meticulously short? Why care about the rights of people you never come in contact with?
Consistency is a slippery slope.
Reflecting on My Time Amid The Cul-de-Sacs
I spent last week at my parents’ home in the suburbs. I was bored in that particular way that only true comfort can produce.
I spent most of my time sitting, either in a car or in large, single-family homes with enough square footage to genuinely introvert recharge. I drove past all the same national chains that exist in every other suburb across the country.
My week in Suburbia had a pleasant, formless quality to it. It was, by every measurable standard, fine. However, too long in the suburbs always gives me a quiet, off-kilter feeling of complacency.
The suburbs have always been a jumping-off point for me. Suburbia is a place to rest and recharge, but I’m not compatible with its monotony on a full-time basis. I love learning. I crave growth. I want to meet people with different opinions, lived experiences, lifestyles, and interests than my own. That’s nearly impossible when you live in the suburbs.
I might not want to spend every day of my life there, but I can recognize the benefits that the suburbs offer.
I’m grateful that I grew up in a place where I could safely learn how to ride a bike. I love the smiles and friendly hellos I get whenever I take my parents’ dog for a walk around the block. I appreciate the proximity of grocery stores and pharmacies and the convenience of endless parking options.
I also appreciate some not-so-universal benefits to my specific hometown. Some suburban benefits have nothing to do with parking or proximity, and everything to do with growing up in that particular place, at your particular time with those particular people.
Specifics That I Appreciate About My Hometown
On Sundays, outside Aladdin’s Baking Co., you can buy homegrown apples and plums out of the back of a pickup truck.
My first love lived off a street called Cinnamon Way.
The ever-expanding Crocker Park Complex is an open-air mall with a full week's worth of stores and award-winning restaurants, as well as a movie theater.
The four best parking lots for teenage nefariousness (at least back in the 2010s) were the Hunter’s Chase Apartments, the Lake Erie Nature Center, the Remington Apartment Complex, and the LDS church off Westwood Rd.
Lake Erie is famous for being the most shallow and warm of the Great Lakes, which earned it the title of the “walleye capital of the world”. Edgewater Beach, Huntington Beach, and Columbia Beach Falls are three amazing options for fishing, kayaking, swimming, and sunbathing.
The field behind St. Brendan Elementary fosters dreams of becoming the first female NFL player.
Conclusion
The suburbs will never be the most interesting place to live.
Hometowns like mine don't have the grit of a city or the stillness of a countryside. Instead, suburbs are the long, familiar stretches off the highways in between.
And yet, there is something quietly radical about paying attention to towns like the one I grew up in. These places will never make the lists. Everyone else drives through them without much inspiration to stop.
But the suburbs are breeding grounds for greatness. They instill a sense of consistency that unlocks the space for true creativity to flourish. They act as soft places to land during the confusion of university and the stresses of young adulthood. They are comfortable, which absolutely comes with its negatives, but also allows for a guilt-free afternoon nap.
In any suburb across the country, there are generations of passionate, creative, and slightly-weird kids like the one I was. There are high-school sweethearts who mean every word of the lifelong vows they make in dimly-lit parking lots (even if they break up a year later). There are white-picket fences and cul-de-sacs full of kids playing without a care in the world.
Growing up in the suburbs didn't give me sophistication or worldliness. But it made me.
Suburbia gave me the foundation to grow into the woman I am today. Plus, I now have a lifetime of nostalgia for the memories I made before adulthood.
Enjoyed this post? There's a whole lot more waiting for you!
Subscribe to my Substack for travel tips, inspirational essays, ethical travel takes, and real talk about freelancing finances, all delivered straight to your inbox.
No spam. Just stories.