You know, when I first started this blog I was filled with this romantic notion of how great it was to be “back home”. I loved it all. I had missed it and I wanted to be back “where I belonged” more than anything. That was two years ago.
What I never took into account when I missed home so much and was so thankful to be back was the reasons I left to begin with. I had forgotten and just blamed my leaving completely on my now ex-husband, which while it was partially true, it was completely unfair.
So, why did I leave? Well, from the time that I was a teenager… From the time my dad got sick, actually, all I could think of was my grand escape. I never wanted to be so far away from a place. Why? Plain and simple, I learned that the family that was here, the reason that most people have for sticking around such a place, could really give two shits less about me, my dad, or pretty much anyone but themselves. This probably wouldn’t bother most people on the level that it did me, but I was raised up that your family was supposed to be the core of your life and that when everything went wrong, when you were knocked to the ground, they were supposed to be there to lift you back up. Well, my family, particularly that on my dad’s side, not only was not there to lift us back up, it seemed as if they helped knock us to the ground, stomped and kicked us while we were down there, and then persisted to hold us down. Who would want to stick around those types of people?
Let’s also mention the fact that I have siblings who are 15 and 17 years older than me. At a very young age I witnessed them run off to join the military and dream of going places far bigger and better than anything that South Georgia and all of its small towns had to offer. Every time my sister would come home and tell me stories about where she had been and what she had done, it was encouragement that I could one day get out of here too. So, when a Marine asked me to marry him and travel the world, I jumped at the opportunity…
Fast forward to now, where I came back after having been gone for 5 years and have now been stuck living “at home” for two years… I have gone through the rumors of why I came back. I have lived through people speculating on who my children actually belong to. I have heard all kinds of stories about myself that have been completely untrue. And while some of them, I feel compelled to argue back and tell the truth, others are simply so laughable that I figure I’ll just sit back and see how out of control it can all get. The unfortunate thing is that I have also fallen victim of rumors, lies, and idle gossip that were started by very close family members of mine. The truth is, a few of them have sent severely slanderous messages about me to people that I consider to be friends. The truth is, it is quite embarrassing to be “back home” and it is humiliating every time a new story comes about and I have to think of who the source of such a vicious tale could possibly be.
When I lived so far away, I got used to a certain anonymity. I was quite please to be able to go out without worrying about being the talk of the town. I loved not wondering what people would say if I didn’t wear my makeup one day, or if I decided to try something new and different with my hair. I loved not sticking out like a sore thumb. I loved having somewhere that I felt like I belonged. “Home” doesn’t have the feel for me. Not to say that it hasn’t come with some benefits. I get to be around my family, and my boys have had opportunities down here that they never would have had if we had stayed in Indy, much less had we gone to DC or New York like I had thought of. Not to mention that I have reconnected with a few other people that, like me, never really quite fit into the equation that has been set for us down here…
This all being said, it’s really quite conflicting… There’s this idea that there is no place like home, but is that a good thing or a bad thing? Do I really want to be here or do I want to catch the next plane to a far away land? I know what I want, but is it what I should do? And when you add in the fact that after I swore I wouldn’t I accidentally fell for a really amazing guy that grew up in the same town as me, it makes the decision so much more difficult… I will admit that the idea of hog-tying him and dragging him wherever I go has crossed my mind a few times in the last few weeks though…
girl i'm some what with ya on this b/c Ive also said I didnt want to fall for someone who came from the same small town I was raised in and grew up in. Or who went to one of the 3 schools I went to. But we have no control over that and I think as long as you and me are both truely happy then that's all that matters. Doesnt matter where you find true love as long as you have it and hold on to it.
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