Nov 09, 2011 14:05
Yesterday, in many ways, was monumental for me. Despite that we have been away from Flint for more than two months, I am just now reaching the point where letting go is possible.
Flint, Michigan will always be my hometown. The bulk of my friends and family still live there. As a backdrop of over twenty years of my life's experience, for better and for worse, Flint has been a major contributor in the shaping of my identity.
Flint, Michigan is no longer my home.
I am no longer fiercely protective of the place. We are both survivors. We both have had turbulent histories. We are both composed of disastrous lows and elated highs. Because I have been there, figuratively and literally, I know how dangerous this roller coaster can be. For people who long for a sense of stability and longevity, this unpredictability is, at best, unsettling and, at worst, petrifying.
At some point, you just have to take a breath and push forward. You take a breath, accept responsibility, and acknowledge that you can't allow yourself to live that way anymore. It has to be a conscious choice because the situation, the dysfunctional relationship, is addictive. It has to be a conscious choice because it's easy to relapse, to fall back into old habits and allow the negativity to wipe your memory clean of all your accomplishments.
I'm not willing to lose sight of myself this time. I know now that "home" is not a place, but a feeling. I feel at home with her. I tell her everything. Though she hasn't herself mastered the technique, she teaches me to breathe and patiently waits for me to advance to my next step.
I'm home. Breathing, accepting responsibility, and pushing forward.