The really nice thing about going home is the feeling of nostalgia that it evokes, and it’s almost like this protective blanket that I can pull up to my chin and tuck myself under. I didn’t think much about the town where I grew up, or depended so heavily on the relationship I had with my mother when I was younger. Instead, I was looking for ways to leave and explore anything else that wouldn’t resemble the familiar. Eventually life got a hold of circumstances and I moved away almost 8 years ago, and now, every time I go back for a visit, the familiarity and unconscious habits of driving down certain paths makes me feel like I belonged somewhere. I think that as we start to grow after graduating from high school, we set ourselves on a journey of sorts. From going to college or finding that job, whether it’s staying in the same town where you grew up or traveling cross-country to chase after a dream, there are opportunities and choices that we make which can determine who we become as individuals. Through it all there is a need to find meaning to who you are, what is your community, how do you contribute, and oh the places you will go. But things change with time, and there are moments when a new destination is not preferred but rather expected, not self-selected but predetermined, and yet that doesn’t matter all that much as long as certain things are in place.
During this last visit I thoroughly immersed myself in creating pleasant memories with my mom. It goes without saying that I have never met anyone like her and really wish we were in closer proximity to seeing one another more often. Though it makes me sad to affirm that distance does make the heart grow fonder, having those scarce moments in person gets me to thinking about how special they are, and how location is less necessary than where the heart is.
f21 blouse/anthro four-if-by-sea skirt/target tights/wanted t-straps