Leaving home; some things are bittersweet.

I never meant to be at home this long. I thought after college I’d come home for a few months and then be off, moving into a apartment with a job. God had other plans for me. I got sick. I had to lose my job. I couldn’t take care of myself and I found myself on the couch for two years, then I found myself working part time, adding on hours slowly, unable to pay for a place yet, not fully well either.

So the story went, flash forward three years from graduation and I am finally working full time, still not a hundred percent well, but buying a house with my best friend and soon to be husband. But I’m 24 and I’m still at home. It brings a lot of millennial jokes to the surface, but I don’t mind. I was sick. I needed my parents. I love them and living with them has never been a bother, but it’s time to move on.

I’ve been excited about the move for months now. All smiles and laughter. A chance to make my own home just how I want it. Leveling up, moving to bigger things. It hadn’t quite hit me that this month will be my last month ever living in my childhood home. I’ve lived here my whole life, minus brief periods in a dorm room, but even then, I came home for summer and holidays. My room was still in my room. It didn’t feel like a big change. This is and its bittersweet. Some of my best memories are in these walls and up and down these streets. When I was a kid my whole world existed in these few blocks and it was wonderful, beautiful, and truly everything a childhood should be.

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On Growing Up: Let it Call you Home

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Today I realized that one of my friends will never put down roots, not because she’s incapable, but rather because she doesn’t want them and never has. She wants to be free, she wants to adventure, and she wants to travel constantly. And as much as my heart longs for adventure and travel, I know that I must always have a home. I need a place to come back to, a place that never changes, a place where my roots are planted so deep the storms can’t rock me.

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A Red Dirt, Carolina Girl

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It’s hard for people to wrap there head around my undying love for pastures and small towns just a drive away from a middle sized city. But how perfect is it to drive half an hour one way and get horse farms, then drive half an hour the other way and get downtown? It’s like a dream come true. I’m sure some of my love for the country has to do with the fact that I barrel race, the fact that my safe place is in a saddle. But I do love the fact that if I want to go catch a movie or go out, it’s not the hardest to find a place to do that either.
I’ve been labeled a homebody my whole life. A Carolina Girl through and through. I love the culture down here; the people, the ya’lls, and sweet tea. Our beautiful weather and southern hospitality. People like to get on me about it, saying that I’m never going to get to be part of a different culture. Which goes back to the age old question of settling where your comfortable and if its a good move. Though I clearly see no reason that I need to force myself to permanently push my comfort zone when I can just jump out of it on occasion.
As long as your expanding and growing within yourself, does it really matter how you choose to do it?
I don’t know, a lot of people find the Greensboro area of North Carolina a little dry, and really wonder what exactly it is about this place that I’ve fallen head over heels for. But really. It’s everything:

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I use the term hometown lightly, addressing it more as a reign than a town.

You see, I’ve said it millions on millions of time, stealing lyrics from a Miranda Lambert song because nothing else fit. “I was born a red dirt girl.” I’m emotionally connected to North Carolina, or the Carolina’s for that matter. The land of red clay paths. The great two and a half hour drive in one direction to get to the beach, and two and a half hours in the other direction to get to the mountains. I loved this place so much that I didn’t leave for school. Yeah, I moved out and I’m in dorms, but it’s only a twenty minute drive to make it home. I’ve made a claim on this place, I refer to it as mine. I want to stay a Carolina local. I’ve imprinted on the land, weather, and people. And while I hope I’ll be able to travel the world and keep seeing foreign places and having grand adventures, I always want a solid home to come back to. I believe it would be necessary to keep me sane.

Untitled-1 “Home” Brand found here online

They have all 50 states, ya’ll!