We had always assumed that John would be the trailing spouse. When we met at a karaoke bar, he was working in tech support and I was a third of the way through my doctoral degree in medieval English literature at UC Santa Barbara, looking ahead to the roller coaster that is the tenure track (particularly in the humanities).
Post graduation, I expected to be bouncing across the country, ideally from postdoc to visiting assistant professor to full professor. In contrast, as an IT professional, he has a pretty easy time finding a job literally anywhere, and he made it clear very early on that he was in awe of my goals and would happily prioritize my career opportunities. The academic job market would control our destination.
Or, so we thought.
By the time I finally finished my Ph.D. after seven years of research, writing, and teaching, however, the shine of the tenure track had seriously tarnished. I loved teaching, but found grading papers to be soul-draining; the phrase “Publish or Perish” had made a home as a solid ball of lead and anxiety in my stomach. I applied for post-doctoral positions and assistant professorships across the U.S., at everywhere from small liberal arts colleges to large research universities, without getting a single interview.
After striking out on the academic job market three years in a row (twice as “All But Dissertated,” and once with my doctorate in hand), I was ready to pursue other options. I began working with a department on the campus where I’d earned my doctorate, doing marketing and event coordination. It was a part-time job, ostensibly leaving me with time to work on my own research, but I quickly realized how much more I enjoyed these non-academic projects. I’d done some similar work during my time as a graduate student, coordinating lectures by visiting professors and running the social media accounts for an online archive I worked on, and now I could appreciate how much more satisfying it felt. It’s a niche area — though perhaps not as niche as medieval English literature! — but marketing and communications for higher education turned out to be the perfect fit for me.
Almost a year into this job, my then-fiance (he had proposed six months earlier, in Feburary 2018) found out that the branch of the company he has been working for would be shutting down — but that he was welcome to take a position at the Santa Ana branch about 150 miles south of our Santa Barbara home.
For those unfamiliar with California geography, Santa Barbara is on the Central Coast, about 100 miles north of Los Angeles, and Santa Ana is in Orange County — about 40 miles south of Los Angeles.
Weighing the pros and cons
We hesitated, for a number of reasons.
We had an enviable support network in Santa Barbara, anchored by John’s brother and the friends he’d made in the 17 years he had lived there since moving west from Connecticut, and the friends I had made in the eight years since matriculating there from my native northern California. In Orange County, we knew almost no one.
We also worried about the climate, both meteorologically (Southern California gets significantly warmer than gorgeous 75-degree Santa Barbara), and politically (Orange County is one of the most politically conservative areas of California).
At the same time, though, we felt compelled both by John’s attractive job offer and the fact that differences in the real estate markets meant that we’d be able to buy a home sooner in Orange County. I also liked the idea of being closer to my grandparents, who had been a three-hour drive from Santa Barbara, but would be only one hour from Santa Ana.
Yes, I had been enjoying the work I was doing in Santa Barbara — but, it was still only part-time, and I was anxious for a full-time job. As home to several large universities, Southern California has many more job opportunities for someone with my background and interests than the somewhat insular Santa Barbara. After one long weekend spent exploring what Santa Ana had to offer, and thinking over all of the facts, figures, and feelings, we decided to try life behind the Orange Curtain.
Overcoming initial doubts
Immediately following our move, I was, I’ll admit, not happy. At that point, I would have rated our move as a 9/15 on the Gupte Scale: a full 5 points for timing, a decent 3 for destination, but only a 1 for resources. Every day, I spent hours applying to jobs, driving miles in every direction for my stopgap job as a tutor for elementary through college students, and waiting eagerly for my husband to come home in the evening so I could talk to someone. Although our two cats were excellent company at home, without a full-time job, I had no outlets to make new friends.
Had I made the right decision? It seemed doubtful.
But then, less than three months after our move, I landed a great job running events and communications for a university library. If not for this exciting experience these last three years, I would not be embarking on my next great opportunity: Social Media Strategist for the School of Engineering at UC Irvine.
Thrilled to be thriving
Had we stayed in Santa Barbara, I wouldn’t feel as confident or happy in my career as I do now. (I don’t know exactly what I’d be doing, but I do know that finding jobs would have continued to be an intense struggle —as gorgeous as it is, Santa Barbara is a small town, with only one major university.)
Instead, I’ve thrived professionally, in wonderful ways. One that stands out the most for me is that now, a little over four years since earning my Ph.D., my very first scholarly article has been published in Marketing Libraries Journal, co-written with my former supervisor. It’s on library crisis communication during the COVID-19 pandemic — not medieval literature — but it’s thrilling all the same.
Ironically, the catalyst for our move — my husband’s job offer — is the only one of the many considerations we had that has not stayed the same; he has changed companies twice in the last three years! (Fortunately, both of these moves have been local.)
In almost every other way, however, our relocation has exceeded our expectations.
Planning our wedding, which took place in Northern California where the majority of my family lives, became unexpectedly easier; the Santa Ana Airport offers convenient one-hour flights up to Berkeley, as opposed to our 6-hour drives from Santa Barbara. And my new job was wildly supportive of the time I had to take off for my wedding just five months into the role, even throwing me a pre-wedding party.
Most significantly, we were able to purchase a condo about a year and a half after our move. (Our March 14, 2020 moving weekend was as bizarre and stressful as you can imagine, as it was the weekend that California officially locked down in response to the COVID-19 pandemic; trailing spouse life does teach resilience!)
While the weather is much warmer here, at least almost every building in Orange County has air conditioning, too.
I still miss the gorgeous vistas of Santa Barbara and the cooler weather of my native Bay Area, along with my closest friends and family. Then again, we’ve been lucky to create a wonderful community in Orange County, many of whom I’ve met through my job. I also can’t overstate how important our closer proximity to my grandparents has been, especially as they both grow older and my grandmother’s health is declining.
Finally, not quite three months after we moved, Orange County turned itself a very blue shade of purple in the 2018 election, allaying many of my fears about feeling out of place as a bleeding-heart liberal. The 2020 election was similar, with Orange County voting for President Biden, and only three of our nine congressional districts voting in a Republican representative.
If I rated our move again now, I’d now give it a 13/15 on the Gupte Scale — still a 5 for timing, but now two 4s for destination and resources.
Embracing my new identity
My biggest challenge wasn’t the move itself, of course, but rather the changing of my self-perception. The journals I wrote all the way back in middle school are filled with my dreams of becoming a college professor; it would be a lie to say that I don’t feel any grief that that’s not the path life took me on. As I expressed it to my therapist recently, deciding not to pursue the tenure track of academia was one of the greatest heartbreaks of my life. But, this is a heartbreak that started before my husband even heard a whisper of transferring to the Santa Ana branch — and one I needed to go through either way.
I’m extremely grateful that my husband’s job transfer gave me a way to let go and move on — figuratively and literally — to a place with greater opportunities. Through this, I have grown into an adult who is thriving, unexpectedly but enthusiastically, in an alt-academic career.
