As a Texan, I barely survived my first winter in the North

It’s safe to say that winter doesn’t really exist in the South, at least like it does up North. Born and raised in Houston, Texas, I had never experienced a “white Christmas” or even seen snow.

No joke, I’m usually wearing shorts during Christmastime. So, you can imagine my reaction the first time I saw snow in Philadelphia.

Leading up to that moment, as the weather in Philadelphia was getting colder and colder, I was the Southern girl that was not prepared for what I was about to encounter. I would ask my friends, “So, what types of clothes and shoes should I get for snow?” It sounds funny now, but at the time, I, along with my parents, really had no clue about the Northern winters.

When I finally saw that first snowflake fall, excited was an understatement. I went outside and immediately thought to myself, “Is this real life?” All of my Northern friends would laugh at me, but snow was such a foreign thing to me.

As days went by, more and more snow came. After my fascination passed, I realized I actually hated the snow. I didn’t like walking and not being able to see. I didn’t like how cold it was. I didn’t like having to layer up. I truly didn’t like one thing about winter in the North. It was overrated.

I remember one specific occasion when I hit the ground hard. Being from the South and having no knowledge about snow and the invisible ice, I thought it would be a great idea to throw on some Toms just to walk five minutes to the nearest Wawa. WHY did I think this would be OK? I have no idea.

I was walking at a relatively steady pace when all of a sudden, I turned a corner and completely ate it. I’m talking legs and feet in the air. I banged my elbow so hard that it was bruising. I thought to myself, “Welcome to the North.” I never wore Toms in the winter again.

Piece of advice for my Southerners who are soon to be Northerners: do your research prior to winter and you will survive this. Good luck!