EAR TO THE GROUND: I'm not from here, but I'm Macon a home in Middle Georgia

I wasn't born in Macon. I didn't go to school here, or to college here. The people on the street who stop and chat with me haven't known my family for generations -- their mama doesn't know my mama.

In fact, I was born far, far away from here in north London, to a Persian mother and an English father. But, ever since I visited Macon in February 2012, I knew this was the place we would call home.

Tim (my husband, who was wooed to Macon for the position of director of Mercer University's Center for Collaborative Journalism) and I sat at the Rookery on a bright February afternoon, looking across the road at the beautiful but boarded-up buildings, and our plans of accepting jobs in New York faded away.

"We have to move here, don't we?" I said. He nodded. There was so much that could happen -- and we could be a part of it.

Now, sitting in the same spot, seeing those buildings transformed into swanky lofts and fabulous shops and restaurants, I'm thrilled to see all the growing-up the city has done. And how much growing up I've done, too.

Macon has made me kinder. Thanks to this city, I'm a nicer, more compassionate human being. Not to say that I don't still have my moments as a grumpy misanthrope -- an "angry young lady," as my dad was prone to call me. But there's a certain softness that comes with living in a loving, beautiful city -- especially one on a slower, smaller scale than the spread-out behemoth that is Atlanta.

Living, working, playing, eating, drinking, shopping, walking and dreaming in a concentrated small Southern urban center means that your actions have greater effect on other people.

Coming from the "City Too Busy To Hate," we happily lived in our own bubbles, content with the small snow globe that surrounded us, which for me, was the music and concert industry. But here in Macon, just walking down the street from our house to the Otis Redding Foundation offices on Cotton Avenue, I'll bump into any number of people, of all varieties.

Some I know, some I don't. Most will throw out a friendly, "Hey, how are ya?" and some are quite happy to start a random conversation with a stranger about the weather, the near-by park's renovations, my hair (which, to be fair, is currently a bit mad looking, as it's been dyed bright orange), my toddler (a mischievous blonde 2-year-old), or, most often, my shoes.

Rather than ignore them or turn away, I've usually found myself happily engaging and nattering away (British word, meaning "to talk about unimportant things for a long time") until it came time to go our separate ways.

I've found my home amongst the art and music nonprofits, working for the Otis Redding Foundation and serving on the boards for Main Street Macon and Bragg Jam.

In a city so connected to music and the arts, and so driven by volunteer-run boards and organizations, I'm lucky to find myself amongst some of the most giving, hard-working, fun bunch of people I've ever met -- a common, glorious rainbow-colored thread that runs through our core group of friends in Macon, as sure as the Ocmulgee River itself.

Leila Regan-Porter is the administrative assistant at the Otis Redding Foundation and the marketing co-chair for Bragg Jam. She also serves on the board for Main Street Macon. Follow her on Twitter@theleila.com.

This story was originally published January 14, 2016 at 4:33 PM with the headline "EAR TO THE GROUND: I'm not from here, but I'm Macon a home in Middle Georgia ."