It must be time to return because for the last month or so I have had this tug at me. This pull. Topics and opinions and whole "blogs" running through my head to share. To write. I have pushed this away, tried to ignore it and its not going away. And so I am back.
Its been a long time. This could be rusty.
It occurred to me this past weekend how much I have grown. Matured. It was a hard weekend. Filled with floods of memories, both good and bad...lots of holding my tongue (and we all know this is hard for me to do), then wondering WHY I held my tongue. Loads of compromise. Listening to things I didn't want to hear but bearing through it anyway.
Can you tell I went "home."
I did.
"Home" for me has had its ups and downs and all arounds for the past 15 years. I used to carry it around on my sleeve and my heart ALL the time. That was daunting and hard and I can't believe that I allowed myself to do it for as long as I did. With that said, in some of the hardest years, I spoke my mind and tried not to let anyone or anything get in the way of my goals, hopes and dreams. For the most part I was successful. The outspoken part of me during those times has faded into what I call maturity. But I am not necessarily talking about maturity in a glamorous fashion. I sort of miss that side of myself.
However, I do believe maturity has allowed me to take the weight off. That burden, however very present when I am around it, is not necessarily with me as much.
I realized this very fact after this weekend. I enter into what feels like the twilight zone when I go back. My parents home is the same but both of my parents don't live there anymore. Very little physical changes have been made in 15 years. So much love was put into building that home and yet so much crap (and I mean crap literally and I am using my inside voice) has come out of it. So much crap still goes on inside of it.
I took a moment to think about bubble of a life at the point where I found myself alone, baby napping, boys at golf and sitting in what used to be my home living room and realize how lucky I am to have escaped all that embodies that place. Don't get me wrong. This girl has had a good life overall. I loved my childhood. I had good friends there, I had good times there. But all of that "stuff" is gone. Those people too have moved on. So its just me and the people that live there now. Some I love. Some I don't trust. An unbelievable misfortune.
I live in a world where my friends all are college educated, smart, beautiful people inside and out. And I am including the "friends" that fall inside of my daily
Facebook feed. Don't hate.
I live in a world where all of the babies I know were chosen and loved well before the first positive pregnancy test.
I live in a world where the people around me have goals, ambitions, and see the positive side of the life around them (most of the time). :)
A world that a bad days consists of a fight with your husband that doesn't involve actual violence, or your kids spent more than 5 minutes in time out.
On paper it sounds a bit ridiculous and flowery. And maybe it is a little ridiculous and flowery. Because there are days that I am completely overwhelmed, feel overworked both at work and home, feel like my children have become hooligans (ha-I think that word is funny), and struggle to find consistent emotional intimacy in my relationship with my husband. I feel desperate, mad, worried.
But my maturity has shown me that life is all about perspective.
"home" can provide a definite taste of that for me.
This trip just made me realize so much for some reason.
It was less than 24 hours. The trip.
Maturity, or whatever you want to call it made me realize that I no longer feel guilty for getting a private college education. Or for the success I have had in my career. Or the two homes I have been fortunate enough to own thus far. Or for the way I have chosen to raise and discipline my children. But to some the act of paying or the act of having money is the equivalent. I guess.
Side note: Is it weird that me writing down that I no longer feel guilty about getting a private college education is the most profound (for me) of them all? Maybe that's how serious it weighed on me? Wowza.
I love my dad and my brother so much that it hurts. They are the reason I sit alone in the living room and want to cry. They are the reason too that I moved on. That I am who I am. They are not the reason I am writing this. And neither is my hometown.. I love that place and what it provided me. Its the cloudy place that is now my former "home."
Everyone has their family stuff. I get it. I just carried mine so close to my heart for so long that I allowed it to affect so many aspects of my life I can hardly stand it when I look back. And looking forward...well thank God for maturity. HA! No seriously, I know that the road ahead is much like the road behind me. I just have a different perspective now. I am thankful for the lessons and know there will be more. I just pray (and I am being literal here) that one day the place I once called "home" will find peace again.
That felt good. I need to quit ignoring that nagging to come here and write.
