I swore I'd never move back to my hometown. When I became a mom, I changed my mind so I could be close to my parents.

"I'll never move back," I often told my college friends of my suburban hometown outside Philadelphia. "It's not exciting. I want to live somewhere new."

It wasn't that there was something overtly wrong with my hometown. I graduated from high school with only 330 students, just a couple of miles from a main street with unique restaurants and quaint shops. But as children, we don't always recognize our good fortune.

Overall, I enjoyed growing up in this safe, quiet atmosphere, only a train ride from the city. Part of my desire to relocate was the fact that I stayed in state — just three hours from home — for college. I yearned for change after graduation.

But when I graduated from Penn State, a disease activated in my nervous system, and after graduate school, the search for a diagnosis was still ongoing; I moved back home for my parents' support. I stayed when I became a mother.

A disease stole my spontaneity

For a while, I resented this mysterious disease for stealing my ability to be spontaneous and adventurous. I watched as my two closest childhood friends moved across the Atlantic. I felt sheltered and dull. I was doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do.

But this disease and the grueling diagnostic journey made me realize how lucky I was to have parents nearby who could help.

Soon after, I met my husband, and my idea of an ideal location to settle down changed.

I told him I wanted to stay local for medical reasons. Our first apartment was about 20 minutes from my childhood home, where my parents still lived. Our first house was only 6.5 miles away in a neighboring school district.

I became a mother, and everything changed for me

When our older son was born, I was still searching for the reason my legs weakened when I stood and walked. Being near my parents gave me comfort during a dark time, as did having appointment companions and nearby babysitters.

My parents would come for a Saturday evening so my husband and I could enjoy a night out. My son and I would stop by their home unannounced when my husband was working, and I was craving adult conversation. We'd meet them for a family dinner at a local restaurant on Friday evenings to update one another about our week. As a mother, I began to realize that having my parents near was everything I never knew I'd need.

As I learned that other local school districts had much larger student bodies, I began to appreciate how I knew just about everyone's name in my graduating class. I didn't want my kids to become a number lost among the masses. My small hometown was looking more perfect each day as we settled into our parental roles.

When our older son was three — and I was pregnant with our second— he needed space to run and explore, and I felt we were outgrowing the limits of our townhome. I imagined a yard with a swing set where we'd spend our summer days splashing under the sprinkler and winter afternoons building snowmen.

We then found a townhouse even closer to my hometown.

I changed my mind about moving elsewhere

With a child of my own and another on the way, I suddenly wanted everything I'd set out to avoid. When we toured a home during a busy open house, I knew it would be ours when I turned to my husband and said, "I wish they'd take their shoes off to protect our carpeting."

My mother helped me pack our townhome into boxes, and we moved in just a couple of months later, right before our second son was born.

We became a family of four in our forever home in the town I said I'd never return to. Over a decade later, I'm still glad I changed my mind.

It was the right choice to stay local

Eight years ago, I was officially diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. My parents live three miles away, and they're at my doorstep in minutes when I'm navigating a flare. Our boys have sleepovers at their house, bonding with their grandparents and spending the evening in my childhood home.

My parents are our emergency contact for school, camp, and literally any life situation that may arise. They check on our home when we're away on vacation and stop over spontaneously to visit when they're passing by. My father, a structural engineer, has arrived minutes after frantic phone calls to fix water leaks and garage door mishaps. My mother comes over when my children are pushing all my buttons at once or when I simply want to spend the day with her. They're present at every orchestra concert, soccer game, and graduation ceremony.

As a mother, I realized the comfort of having family nearby is far superior to the excitement of settling into a new place that will one day lose its novelty. Not a day passes that I don't recognize the gift of having my parents just down the road.