Pachuca to DC to Michigan to DF. It's amazing how much one person can change in a matter of months. I haven't written in quite a while, but I was still making up my mind about many things...and of course, I still am. But I am getting the idea. First things first:
Pachuca. Leaving Pachuca was so hard. I'm not sure why, because I wasn't particularly happy there. I felt like it was the end of an era, like graduating college or saying goodbye to a friend you know you will never be so close to again. Do you think people are ever a little sad when they are released from prison? Maybe a feeling of the weight of time, or changes you aren't sure can ever be reversed? Not that Pachuca was a prison, no that would be dramatic, but something changed in me when I was there. I felt darker, heavier, weaker. Not good things. But I learned a lot about myself, the things I will stand against and the things I don't want. The thoughts that I should confront and the ones I should dismiss. I had/have such good friends in Pachuca. But my definition of "good friends" definitely included many exceptions while I was there. I think the sadness I felt in leaving, was a sadness in losing an understanding I had kept with myself. A release. I don't regret my time there, that would be a waste. But I am thankful that I have moved on and feel free. I have remembered what I value in myself and others. Things are beautiful again.
Summertime. Coming home is always a shock. But I have a friend who let me stay with her and her family for an entire month, and never acted like it was an inconvenience. People change, people stay the same. Staying in DC and taking courses brought me back to life. I had interesting conversations. People were genuinely interested in me, and didn't criticise or judge. People talked to me on the metro just to be friendly. I made connections that weren't forced, and weren't based on a party or alcohol or some need to blend. I could be me and no one stared, no one made me feel bad about who I am. No one held me down.
Then in Michigan, spending time with my mom and my best friends. I am so lucky. Wedding showers, nights in and making dinner, rob's pizza, my mom's chicken, my grandpa, country music with the windows down, Cassie and Laura and Jenny, salads that won't make me sick. All good things.
Meeting people that surprise you and change you for the better. People that help you remember what you used to be when you were lighter and stronger and happier and encourage you to be yourself rather than what they want or expect you to be because all they want or expect you to be is yourself. Who tell you secrets. Who make you special.
I am not a grandma. I am not old. I am not hostile. I am not tired. I am not a prude. I am not quiet. I am not boring. I am me.
I am many things. I am whatever I want to be. Take me, baby, or leave me.
Mexico DF. Arriving here was a struggle. No apartment, new job, living in a hotel, getting sick, missing my best friend's wedding. It's hard to push down thoughts of regret in times like those. But the apartment has been found, the job is great, the friends are caring. I feel so much more free than I've felt in so long I just want to scream. But a happy scream. A shout? Un grito de independencia? It's so nice to explore the city and be stimulated by everyday things. There are so many things and people I miss. So many things I try not to think about because they give me that familiar heart pain that comes with my current chosen lifestyle.
I feel so new and ready for anything. I have fantastic conversations every night. Distant conversations, but fantastic ones. I have a roommate who rolls me up like a burrito in my blanket and makes me mac n cheese at 4 am when I am feeling a little sad. I have people who tell me I'm amazing and mean it. Happy happy happy.
Pachuca. Leaving Pachuca was so hard. I'm not sure why, because I wasn't particularly happy there. I felt like it was the end of an era, like graduating college or saying goodbye to a friend you know you will never be so close to again. Do you think people are ever a little sad when they are released from prison? Maybe a feeling of the weight of time, or changes you aren't sure can ever be reversed? Not that Pachuca was a prison, no that would be dramatic, but something changed in me when I was there. I felt darker, heavier, weaker. Not good things. But I learned a lot about myself, the things I will stand against and the things I don't want. The thoughts that I should confront and the ones I should dismiss. I had/have such good friends in Pachuca. But my definition of "good friends" definitely included many exceptions while I was there. I think the sadness I felt in leaving, was a sadness in losing an understanding I had kept with myself. A release. I don't regret my time there, that would be a waste. But I am thankful that I have moved on and feel free. I have remembered what I value in myself and others. Things are beautiful again.
Summertime. Coming home is always a shock. But I have a friend who let me stay with her and her family for an entire month, and never acted like it was an inconvenience. People change, people stay the same. Staying in DC and taking courses brought me back to life. I had interesting conversations. People were genuinely interested in me, and didn't criticise or judge. People talked to me on the metro just to be friendly. I made connections that weren't forced, and weren't based on a party or alcohol or some need to blend. I could be me and no one stared, no one made me feel bad about who I am. No one held me down.
Then in Michigan, spending time with my mom and my best friends. I am so lucky. Wedding showers, nights in and making dinner, rob's pizza, my mom's chicken, my grandpa, country music with the windows down, Cassie and Laura and Jenny, salads that won't make me sick. All good things.
Meeting people that surprise you and change you for the better. People that help you remember what you used to be when you were lighter and stronger and happier and encourage you to be yourself rather than what they want or expect you to be because all they want or expect you to be is yourself. Who tell you secrets. Who make you special.
I am not a grandma. I am not old. I am not hostile. I am not tired. I am not a prude. I am not quiet. I am not boring. I am me.
I am many things. I am whatever I want to be. Take me, baby, or leave me.
Mexico DF. Arriving here was a struggle. No apartment, new job, living in a hotel, getting sick, missing my best friend's wedding. It's hard to push down thoughts of regret in times like those. But the apartment has been found, the job is great, the friends are caring. I feel so much more free than I've felt in so long I just want to scream. But a happy scream. A shout? Un grito de independencia? It's so nice to explore the city and be stimulated by everyday things. There are so many things and people I miss. So many things I try not to think about because they give me that familiar heart pain that comes with my current chosen lifestyle.
I feel so new and ready for anything. I have fantastic conversations every night. Distant conversations, but fantastic ones. I have a roommate who rolls me up like a burrito in my blanket and makes me mac n cheese at 4 am when I am feeling a little sad. I have people who tell me I'm amazing and mean it. Happy happy happy.
1 comentario:
I wish blogs had like buttons!
Publicar un comentario