Growing up in Thousand Oaks, California, I never thought much about geography—at least, not beyond my little corner of suburbia. On family vacations, I would hear my parents tell other tourists that we were from Los Angeles although we actually lived about 15 miles outside of the city limits. So when I first got to Berkeley, I often answered the stereotypical icebreaker question: “Where are you from?” by saying LA. It didn’t really cross my mind at first that many people were actually from the heart of LA or cities much closer to the city than I was. My corrected introductions to friends often involved awkward clarifications—“I’m from Thousand Oaks, it’s just outside of LA.” I guess I somehow forgot that people do live in one of the most highly populated cities in the U.S.—who would have thought?
Thousand Oaks is a suburban enclave nestled in Ventura County, with a charmingly quiet vibe. I love the proximity to the beach, the warm Southern California weather, and the close-knit communities with their small town-esque vibes. I attended a K-8 school where I grew up with the same small group of people in my grade, graduating with the same friend group I had had since early elementary school. Everyone and their mother knew everyone, including my own mom as she was my teacher in middle school. Back then, I would’ve considered settling down and raising a family with no second thought. It seemed like the perfect balance: far enough from the bustle of the city, but close enough for a spontaneous drive to LA or Santa Barbara.
But as I got older—and especially after moving to Berkeley—I realized maybe my hometown isn’t all that. Berkeley opened my eyes to the allure of city life. It’s a vibrant college town with an edge. While it’s not a massive city, it’s lively, full of energy, walkable, and just a drive across the Bay Bridge away from San Francisco.
When I return home to Thousand Oaks during breaks, the contrast seems striking. I’m reminded of how quiet it is. With not much to do for fun my friends and I end up driving around, sometimes aimlessly while just listening to music. I find myself going to the mall just to keep myself occupied, even though I hate the monotonous vibe complimented by its fluorescent lighting. I realize how much I crave the feeling of the energy of a bigger city like Berkeley, where there’s always something to do, something to see, someone to meet.Even with these realizations, I haven’t completely fallen out of love with Thousand Oaks. It’s funny—I’m reminded of this every time I rewatch Lady Bird, one of my favorite movies. In one memorable scene, Lady Bird’s teacher, Sister Sarah Joan, remarks on how attentively Lady Bird writes about her hometown, Sacramento. The question arises: does paying attention equate to love? I think it does, and as I’ve become more perceptive of cities and all their offerings in general, I’ve learned I really do love my hometown. Yet, like Lady Bird, I’m not always conscious of this love. Nevertheless it’s where I grew up, where I formed my first friendships, and where my memories are deeply rooted. It may not have the excitement of a big city, but that’s part of its charm. It’s home. And maybe that’s all it needs to be.