I’ve been a Miami resident all my life. Born and raised. Most people don’t believe me when I tell them - they say “You’re FROM Miami?” Like it’s the craziest thing to come out of my mouth. But the truth is, both my parents were from New York and moved to Florida (separately) and met and had me.
I grew up in a time when a boom of young families were moving into the area. There were U-Pick farms and two-lane roads, and it was safe for kids to ride bikes after school and not come home until dark.
This was before Miami was filled with car horns blaring in rush hour traffic and when Brickell was just a blip on the map.
I saw it all.
I enjoyed the sight of pastel-colored Art Deco buildings on South Beach and the smell of fresh Cuban coffee swirling around my head like a caffeinated halo. I survived Hurricane Andrew and lived through the devastating aftermath. I watched Wynwood go from an underground hipster haven with Friday Art Walks to paying to enter the Wynwood Walls, that is if you can find parking at all.
Miami was my playground growing up -- the land of endless summer, nights spent at Churchill's listening to no-name rock bands, and palm trees that waved driving across the MacArthur Causeway. I knew every nook and cranny of the city, from Homestead to Little Havana, Kendall to the Broward County line, and I wore my "305" badge with pride. This was my home, and I loved it.
But then, Davie happened.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Davie? Isn’t that where people go to get away from, well, everything? You wouldn’t be wrong, but that’s part of its charm. Davie is like the quiet kid in the back of the classroom who turns out to be surprisingly fascinating once you strike up a conversation. It’s not flashy, not particularly loud, and it’s definitely not trying to keep up with Miami’s frenetic pace. In fact, it’s doing the exact opposite.
Let me tell you how I stumbled into this small, rural Florida town that, against all odds, managed to capture my city-loving heart.
It started house hunting just a few years ago. Yep, that's right - house hunting in Miami, I’d be lucky to get a one-bedroom fixer-upper with a budget most people could snag a 3/2 in the rural Midwest. It was frustrating to say the least, going from house to house in Dade County, not having much luck or interest. That was until I moved my search to Broward and a whole world of possibility opened up.
I hadn’t considered living in Davie much at first. But then I noticed something I hadn’t expected: space. No, not like the cosmos, but literal, physical space. Unlike Miami, where every square inch is developed or under development, Davie is sprawling. There are actual ranches with horses trotting about like they own the place, and roads where the only traffic jam you’ll hit is behind a slow-moving tractor. And, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could exhale. Really exhale.
Davie, Florida, with its wide-open spaces and laid-back vibe, would be the perfect spot to catch my breath. I wasn’t expecting much—maybe a decent farmer’s market and some cows grazing in the distance, which, to be fair, is exactly what I got.
There’s something about driving down Griffin Road, going west, away from it all, and seeing nothing but green for miles, the occasional horse crossing signs reminding you that you’re not in Miami anymore. Life in Davie has a slower rhythm, and I found myself kind of sinking into it. It was like I had been dancing to the frantic beats of Miami’s nightlife all my life, and suddenly, someone switched the playlist to a chill acoustic set. And I was okay with it.
One of the things I quickly fell in love with was Davie’s unapologetic rural charm. It’s a town where cowboy boots and hats aren’t just Halloween costumes, and it’s totally normal to see someone riding a horse down the street. Yes, a horse. That was when I knew Davie was playing by its own rules, and honestly, it was kind of refreshing. I mean, have you ever tried riding a horse through downtown Miami? Don’t. It’s not exactly traffic-friendly.
But Davie isn’t just some sleepy little town where nothing ever happens. Oh no. There’s a deep sense of community here, and it’s infectious. I’ve made friends at Home Depot, who offered me free Alocasia plants because they have too many and didn’t expect anything in return. My neighbors bring me mangos from their trees or pineapple plants they’ve started from scratch.
Even more surprising was Davie’s hidden gems. There’s Wolf Lake, where you can wander around the beautiful lake and enjoy an untouched pocket of nature. Or Flamingo Gardens, a lush sanctuary that’s home to flamingos, peacocks, and even a resident panther. It’s like Davie is a little slice of old Florida, untouched by the towering condos and high-rises that dominate the coastline. It’s peaceful, serene, and just plain beautiful.
Somewhere between the rodeos, the nature trails, and the peaceful quiet, this small rural town of Davie, Florida, managed to capture my heart in a way that Miami, for all its glitz and glamour, hadn’t anymore. It wasn’t about what Davie had that Miami didn’t—it was about what Davie didn’t have. No skyscrapers blocking the horizon, no endless traffic, no constant hum of a city that never sleeps. Just space, quiet, and a sense of calm that I didn’t realize I’d been craving.
So here I am, a Miami resident at heart, but with a newfound love for a little town called Davie. And honestly? I think the cowboy boots suit me.
Do you love your state as much as I love mine? Show your state pride with some Wear Your Roots clothing!
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