"I parked around the corner from the random local apartment complex and gave myself a little pep talk. I figured the best-case scenario was that I would meet new people that I could share my favorite hobby with—worst case, I wasted a little gas and a couple of hours.
After moving across the country from South Carolina to Portland, Oregon, I was headed to my first-ever meeting of the book club “Prose Before Bros.” The account had popped up on my Instagram feed—a book club specifically for Women of Color.
It was late September, and my nerves mingled with the shakiness I felt being so transient post-move. Anyone who’s found themselves anxious over a social situation can relate: I wasn’t just nervous about meeting new people, but also that I would say something embarrassing after failing to read the room (no pun intended). Even as an adult, I stress over how best to insert myself in new situations in an effort to be chill. As I walked into the apartment complex, I was buzzing with all those feelings while simultaneously trying to tone it down so I didn’t seem too eager.
Once I got to the room, I found myself surrounded by young women like myself who were extremely open. I sat down at a random table and hoped that the good vibe I was getting would continue. The meetings always consisted of an activity before the book discussion, so we started by decorating skulls in honor of Día de Los Muertos. I sat with everyone and struck up conversations about when I moved (basically two weeks prior), how I was liking Portland (no clue, I just got there), and how I found the group (shout out to social media). It seemed that multiple people around the table weren’t local or were new to the area. It was nice to at least have people who could relate to my experience despite the illusion of isolation I had been making up in my head.
As we got to know each other, I realized that this could be something I could commit to. Having a regularly scheduled space where I got to laugh with friends and share my opinions without judgment was everything I didn’t know I needed. I could let out that breath I was holding because this was a group I could see myself getting to know better.
Why I made the big move
In 2021, I got a new job that would move me from small-town South Carolina to Portland, Oregon. After spending so much time at home, I was excited at the prospect of being somewhere new. I had done a big move once before, but something about this felt like it came at the right time. My community was incredibly small while I was in South Carolina. I got in a few hangs with my pod, but realistically, I was mainly socializing with my immediate family. The isolation got exhausting fast.
I was connecting with friends on a little girls’ trip to Florida when I saw the Portland area code pop up on my phone as we were leaving the beach. Sitting in our Airbnb with open windows and the coastal breeze calming my nerves, the call came. I was so excited about the possibility of a new opportunity that the stipulation of moving was just something else to jump into head first. My mom and siblings were supportive, as they had watched me have an incredibly hard year, yet sad that we wouldn’t all be together anymore. As months went by and COVID-19 variants became more unpredictable, I knew I had to go ahead and take the moving plunge and stop overthinking the change. The move felt like a light at the end of the tunnel. I would get to Portland and be a brand new, super cool person.
Unfortunately, moving can’t be your whole personality. Fast forward to flying across the country, I still felt disconnected—and now, I could even measure in miles how far I felt from my old life. I had to make a conscious effort to try new things and hope that it worked out.
Finding a community of readers
After that first time, I made it my mission to get to each monthly meeting. I moved into my new house with my new roommates, who were warm and welcoming. But sitting there surrounded by boxes and my mattress still on the floor (and a lot of books), I still didn’t know where to start with expanding my experience past the monthly meetups. I found the group on Instagram, so I thought that was the best place to continue building community. Nani, the founder of the club, would create chats specifically to talk about the next month’s book so that people could talk while reading. It wasn’t the exact same as being in person, but I still felt the coziness of a community where your hobby is celebrated. Nani was extremely present, and I think the kindness she showed me during that first meeting was how I knew that this book club would be a building block for my community in Portland. I could tell she genuinely wanted to be friends, and as a transplant in a new city, her kind energy meant the world.
“Having a regularly scheduled space where I got to laugh with friends and share my opinions without judgment was everything I didn’t know I needed.”
Turning a book club into a sisterhood
After a few months of regular meetings, I got a few members’s numbers and started befriending them outside of that scheduled time. I was getting lunch with new people and volunteering my extra time to help Nani, who at that point was a one-woman operation. My surface-level friendships slowly evolved into texting about book drama and sending TikToks. Soon the group was doing yoga together, floral arranging, escape rooms, friendship bracelets—you name it. It was everything that I had missed so much during the pandemic. I was so happy to find a community where hobbies weren’t just weird things you do and don’t talk about—like my love of making badly crocheted hats.
It warmed my heart that I found people who I wanted to hang out with, do trips with, be silly and dance around with after a time when I was too scared to do the little things like go to the grocery store. I had people to reach out to for everything from a quick coffee run to planning a weekend trip to Oregon wineries.
In January 2022, I hosted the group for the first time. Alongside Nani, I planned what activity would match reading a ‘self-help’ type of book. We found a store in Portland that was open to having us called Psychic Sister, a women-owned business in Portland that celebrates astrology and other metaphysical practices (alongside vintage shopping and items from BIPOC vendors). The activity was paired with Born for This by Chani Nicholas, a book about astrology that expands on the basics to help readers look inward. This meeting was a great way to start the new year by diving into astrology as another perspective on the way we think and love.
As we planned, Nani and I got a kick out of deciding which snacks to pair with each zodiac sign, like Sour Patch Kids for Geminis and trail mix for Capricorns. We sat in a huge circle in the center of the store over wine and snacks and talked about our “big 3.” We talked about our pasts, our inner children, and what we were looking forward to for the year. It brought me so much joy to take the lead and guide my new friends through the discussion. After the meeting, I let out another breath of relief—but this one wasn’t because of the nervousness of wanting the meeting to go well. This was because I found people who I could talk about the ups and downs with. And we did so through books.
When I look back on it, all it took was a good book to connect me with a community in my new home. I can reflect on that time and understand that it had to be a higher power or fate that I found this group—it helped make the transition so much easier for me. From a dark place to a newfound sense of ease, I felt like me again, and the bookish community helped me do it. Though I didn’t realize it at that very first meeting, all of that worrying and searching was worth it in the end.