I am home. Not the physical home I grew up in, but a guest room in my mom and step-dad’s home in the town I grew up in. They are both professors and their house is near campus, where I ventured yesterday but quickly retreated from because there was a football game and undergrad coeds are the living worst humans in the universe. (I apologize if you’re one of these shit buckets. You’ll get it in like ten years when you grow up and realize how terrible you were. Or you won’t because you’ll still be fucking terrible. I DON’T KNOW YOUR FUTURE.)
Anyway. I’m home. I’m home because things in my grown-up life are slightly falling apart and I felt like I needed respite. I’m home because although I am technically an adult, that doesn’t mean I know what to do or where to go from here. Maybe it was a chicken shit move, like when you’re a kid and you call time-out in a game you know you’re losing. I don’t know. The thing I’m quickly finding is that home isn’t really home anymore. It’s an old shirt you love that doesn’t quite fit you right anymore, but you hold onto it anyway because it means something to you.
I came back for many reasons, but I think I secretly hoped for some sort of epiphany or at very least a little clarity. Instead I'm overwhelmed by the frustrated restlessness that resides in the pit of my stomach and a chorus of voices in my head all asking variations of the same question.
“What are you going to do now?”
I pick up a framed picture of myself from maybe seven years ago and fight the urge to fling it across the room. Instead I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, wishing someone would tell me what to do next. The girl my mom says, “came out of the womb defiant” is now begging for guidance.
So really, what am I going to do now? I suppose what I've always done. Make mistakes. Get humbled. Listen to people who are smarter and wiser than I am. Hug my mom, hug my kids and take deep breaths. Revel in the sacredness of broken things and then move on. I have never prescribed to the notion that if you're going through hell just keep on going. You do that and you learn nothing. You do that and you fail to gain the profound appreciation of peace that only comes after you've known chaos. Don't get me wrong, I have moments of angst and I occasionally eat my body weight in tear-soaked pie. Things aren't always exactly as I imagined or hoped they would be. That's life. And this is home.