Home Is Where the Heart Is

“The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence!”… “Remember Lot’s wife!”…I reminded myself of these saying for days – weeks – before I finally allowed myself to seriously consider the possibility that I may want to return to the Metro DC area. Still, tentative, I planned a visit to see how it would feel. Carefully I took mental note of every feeling. The giddy excitement when it was still six weeks away. The way I accidentally referred to it as “going home” in a conversation with a current co-worker. The stomach ache and the way I procrastinated when the time came to head to the airport to return to California. The way I stumbled when a fellow passenger on my flight asked me where I’m from – I caught myself saying “the DC area” before I replaced it with, “Washington state”.

In California I was fearful that I wanted to return to the area for an old flame. But this weekend I came to realize his influence is significantly less than I thought it would be. While I still saw all the places that could well have triggered memories we share, I didn’t think about him much at all. Not until Saturday, when I realized I could inadvertently run into him the next day at church. Immediately after the church service, I sat anxiously in my seat, not sure if I should or could make my way into the crowded lobby. To go, would be to risk interaction with someone significant from my past. To sit, would risk not facing the memories of this place the way my trip was meant to do. I stayed seated until the sanctuary was semi-empty and those moments were the only ones in my whole time there, when fear and emotion got the better of me.

I can honestly say, however, that was my only battle with fear and past hurdles. My overall assessment of my visit is that I really do like the whole DC area and I have to go back. I have to go home. Until this revelation, I looked at the DMV like it had snatched me, chewed me up and spit me out. I had failed there. Just days before my trip I finally summoned up the nerve to tell my mother (by email, the chicken way!) not only that I was going to visit but that I was doing it because I think I want to move back. My mom replied, displeased as expected and as I struggled to hold my ground, I came upon the key to it all – there is nothing wrong with Central California, it’s beautiful here. But I don’t fit here. I don’t fit here, and until recently I didn’t think I fit in DC either…but if given the choice, I would rather be in an environment where I’m forced to grow to fit, then shrink to fit.

DC challenges me to grow. I have to be patient, when English is not the first language of so many. I have to be organized – even to just get from Point A to Point B. I have to be decisive, because there are always so many options there. I have to be confident and outgoing because everyone has somewhere else to be (and usually as soon as possible). Since moving to California, I’ve developed the annoying trait of flushing scarlet when I’m talking in front of my office mates. Mianna, the public speaking major who never had a problem speaking in front of hundreds of people, now physically reacts when in front of just four. I’m shrinking already.

So I don’t know when or how – or where – I’ll go, but I’ve officially decided what my next step will be. The last three years have been an opportunity to discover more about myself and now that I know – and I want to go home. And now, I finally know where that is.

Love y'all,

~M~