The "Dos" and "Don'ts" of Leaving San Francisco

And other baggage I have from friends moving away

Disclaimer: If you are reading this and you have previously lived in San Francisco and no longer live here, I assume no responsibility for offending you. The stories documented below may or may not reflect the actions of actual individuals. Read on at your own risk. (Also, I still love all of you.)

To say that San Francisco is a transient place is to state a very obvious, and somewhat painful, fact for those of us who live here. But I’m also surprised at the number of times that I have told this to people who have never lived here and see a look of surprise on their faces. Apparently, this is not obvious to everyone. It was not immediately obvious to me when we moved here, but it became so very quickly. 

Just about every summer of my kids’ preschool and elementary years we said goodbye to a good friend, either from school or church. I did a lot of consoling my kids and ranting to Dave in those years. He did a lot of listening and talking me down, as per usual.  It often felt like just as we were making headway in a relationship, getting past the initial politeness and on to the fun stuff, the blow would land. I got pretty good at anticipating when the news was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. Sensing that someone wanted to have a conversation featuring the “M” word, I found myself wanting them to squirm a bit. No filling in their sentences for them or nodding in understanding. In reality though, I am incapable of not nodding in understanding, but let’s just say I was not nodding on the inside. So there! 

I realize I sound like a jerk. I am. And, you also have to understand that this is a wound that never fully heals for those of us who stay. It scabs over for a time but it just gets picked at again when we least expect it. The pandemic and post-pandemic years really ravaged this wound. 

I’m sure you can imagine the layers of hurt and resentment and self-protection that might result from years of this pattern. That’s not what this post is about. (Phew.) That’s what a good counselor is for. And thankfully, I have had those.

No, this is about how not to leave San Francisco. This is where some of you may want to stop reading (or read on and remember that I still love you).

1. Do Not give the pastor’s family your refrigerator condiments and pantry items on your way out of town. Please and thank you. We do not want your expired Worcestershire sauce or half-empty jar of tartar sauce. We also do not want freezer-burned edamame or Safeway-branded cooking wine. Who uses cooking wine, anyway? I would, however, take your actual wine. 

2. Do Not ask me for your forgiveness for resenting me while you lived in San Francisco. That is just weird and completely unhelpful. I recognize that this is probably a pastor’s wife thing, so maybe (hopefully) many of you cannot relate to this. But it happens, people. And it has happened to me. I will forgive you because of Jesus and the gospel and grace and all that good stuff. But I will feel really icky and confused in the meantime and lose sleep and exhaust my husband with talking about it, and that just feels kinda mean to do to me when you are the one moving away. So maybe you can just work through this resentment with Jesus, okay? I think it actually may be more about you than me anyway. Just sayin’.

3. Do Not tell me you are moving AFTER you already put an offer on a house in another state. I can’t say much more about this one because people I really love and respect have done this, and I am already risking offending them. Also, this one definitely presses on some of my own weird baggage as someone who can’t own a house without some sort of miraculous intervention involving hundreds of thousands of dollars materializing. But it just doesn’t sit well with people, so maybe just give them a heads up that you are thinking about moving a few days before you make that call to the realtor in another state. 

For the sake of balance, here are some things to DO if you find yourself leaving or thinking of leaving:

1. Do invite me or someone you trust into your process as you think about moving away. Really. I want to be in those conversations with you. I know that there are 5 million good reasons to leave San Francisco. I have them too. I will not be surprised or judge you, but I will be sad and that’s okay. Be a little sad with me even if you are secretly excited about suburbia and mowing a lawn and parking in a parking lot. Just try to pretend like you aren’t for a minute - for my sake.

2. Do cry and tell me it was a hard decision, even if it wasn’t. I just need that, okay?

3. Do make lots of space and time for “lasts” and goodbyes. These rituals are important and help both you to leave well and the people who will miss you to grieve well. 

4. Do honor San Francisco in all its insanity when you talk about your time here. I know it was crazy. I know it likely felt like you got chewed up and spit out. But remember the moments of glory and beauty and the fact that for a while you were actually making it in San Francisco. That was good, so call it good.

5. Do move back. Seriously. It is a magical place and you know you miss it. You miss the fog in June when you are showering twice a day wherever you are now. You miss the feeling of superiority over other people just because where you live is cooler than where they live. I am not condoning this - but I know you think it. It’s my actual favorite thing when people who leave move back. You know you want to.

This is a picture of me and my friend Marley who moved away last week. She was here for 14 years and she loved so well while she was here. She also left well. She left so well, in fact, that she earned the right to troll me by gifting me with a bag of old condiments on our last outing together. Touché, my friend.