Recently, I had a friend post a picture of it (not the one above). She noted something along the lines of "being here with him in the place where we grew up" , and I got to thinking about what that would mean for my life.
I left the place I grew up when I was 17. My parents moved us all to TN from Miami, FL. My childhood was filled with palm trees and humidity. The places I remember with the most fond of memories are still alive in my mind. There's the house that I said goodbye to this past March when my grandmother passed away. I learned how to swim in that pool and it's where I discovered music and movies and how beautiful those mediums compliment one another.
My grandparents introduced me to both Hepburns, Dick Van Dyke, Julie Andrews, Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, and the like. The first film I ever saw was Cinderella, followed soon by Mary Poppins. I believed that every time you pressed "play" on the VCR, the actors heard "action" and did it all over again, just for me.
There was Vizcaya, where I had my first romantic walk when I was 15. We strolled through the gardens during the renaissance fair, and never even held hands. I remember it was just thrilling to be with him again, a year or so later, when we revisited the same place as a "couple". Of course, there are a number of other streets and locations where my childhood blossomed into teenhood.
In the decade my family has called middle TN home; I, myself, have only resided there for nearly 3.5 years. I've lived in Southern California, Boston, New York City, and Chattanooga before coming back this past year, all to leave it behind again to move back to California.
So I wonder if I had stayed?
If I never left Miami, what kind of person would I be? Or if I had never left Franklin, what would I be doing now?
As it is, my journey has taken me through valleys and peaks of the craziest of nights to the most relaxing of days. Because of my travels, I've met people who have taken me on all kinds of adventures. I met Brian, who met me in Budapest, all to take me to London the same day. Had I not been living in Boston, I wouldn't have found out about MXAT, and we wouldn't have met and become lifelong friends. Going to Europe when I was 23 wouldn't have happened.
Had I not been living in New York, I wouldn't have worked at a trapeze school, learning skills I NEVER thought I'd even be interested in, and I wouldn't have met Greg. I wouldn't have gone hiking in Arches National Park and I would never have lived in Chattanooga. Despite the fact that my heart got a run for its money, we still had a grand 2.5 years together.
I would never have shared a cab with Neil Gaiman.
I would never have made out with a famous drummer (always the drummer).
I would never have fallen in love with the people I fell for.
I would never have dedicated 3 years to a trapeze rig.
I would never have spent Christmas in Connecticut.
I would never have had a roommie that shared my birthday and got me way too drunk on my 22nd birthday.
COUNTLESS things would have never happened if I had stayed.
Who knows what would have actually happened. Chaos theory and all that. Some things might still have happened, regardless of where I was at any given year of my life. Good or bad, things still happen.
I am not advocating that every person move around or even leave their home state; but for me, it has been the makeup of who I have become. My advice is to live somewhere else, breathe air that belongs to a different time zone. Meet someone you don't know and fall in love with their uniqueness. See where life takes you because you branched out of your comfort zone.
I am not "going home" for Christmas. I am spending it with people I've never met and some I hold most dear. Sometimes this makes me sad. But then I think to myself, I am not home, even when I'm back in TN. I am not home. Not yet. I haven't left yet, but I don't intend to stay.
Merry Christmas. x
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