As far back as I can remember, I dreamt of distant cities and countries, places where people talked in different languages and accents, where food and fashion were foreign and nothing was assumed or expected as normal. I dreamt of an adventurous life moving around like a gypsy with a bounty on my head. I dreamt of a string of international lovers, never settling down in one place or at one job or with one person for long. That life, that lack of connection to any place or person, was what I thought I was meant to live, and I sought out to fulfill that destiny.
The place that I was supposed to call home for so many years is a place that, regardless of rights or wrongs or truthfulness or memory, I never felt that connection to. Everyone's memories are clouded by their own experiences and perceptions, but as the Good Prophet Doctor Phil teaches us, the only thing that matters is how you felt, and how those feelings shaped you. And the simple matter is that this home was a place I never felt welcome or comfortable. It was useless to try to explain why, no matter how hard I tried. Obviously, I thought, the reason that I couldn't connect to any places that were supposed to be my home was the common denominator: me. I had to have been the problem so there was no escaping this destiny.
But something remarkable has happened in recent years. I stopped searching. I stopped running. I stopped trying to find where I was supposed to be, and instead I just was. Maybe I was simply ready. Maybe I'd gone through enough and was just too tired to keep trying to be something I wasn't. But I know that when I met the man who is now my husband, I let myself learn for the first time what it was like to not be judged on what I was or what I was supposed to be for other people, but instead to be appreciated for who I am. Instead of a life where nothing I did was right, no matter how hard I tried, I found myself in a life where everything was right because it was truth. It was me. I did what felt right and so it was.
And I found peace.
The life that I have found in the city that became mine exactly two years ago is a life full of amazing people doing incredible things. Supporting their friends, their families, and their community, and allowing themselves to be happy. It was hard to accept for a long time and I still find myself doubting it occasionally, but thankfully at increasingly longer intervals. I know that I have never felt so free to follow my passions and dreams, and I have found others who feel the same way. Maybe it's this specific place that was founded by crazy dreamers who wouldn't take no for an answer. Maybe it's just that I subconsciously choose to find people who are like me. Or maybe I just notice these things now and hadn't before.It doesn't matter why I feel this way, only that I do. And now that I know what it feels like, nobody can take it away from me no matter where I go.
I will always have wanderlust, but I no longer travel in search of that elusive connection or in search of other options. I have finally found what I was always looking for, what I thought I would never have. And although I found it here, it no longer matters where I am, whether it's Dallas or New York, Atlanta or Miami, California or Paris or Cape Town or Shanghai...
With this knowledge, with this peace, I've found my home. And for that, I am truly thankful.
