Something remarkably unexpected is going on in my life–I’m being pulled back ‘home.’ (Home in this instance refers to my hometown.) And I like it.
It’s remarkable because I disliked living in my hometown so much that at eleven I told my mom that I was leaving and never coming back. “You can visit me wherever I am though,” I reassured her.
It’s remarkable because I wanted to get out of dodge so badly, that I convinced her to let me go to boarding school in Boston starting at age fifteen. (I never felt safe or accepted in my hometown.)
It’s remarkable because she and I knew I’d NEVER come back to live in my hometown.
Never say never!
Though I moved back to Chicago in 2001 for business, something else I swore I would never do, I maintained a healthy distance from my hometown.
Sure I’d visit my family who still lived there, but I’d done that when I lived in LA too. I’d swoop in, have some fun and catch-up time, and swoop out. Nothing serious, no mingling with the natives, no dealing with the you-don’t-belong-here stares and snickers.
But now I participate in two non-profits, one of which is located in my hometown, and the other one is near it. I not only mingle with the natives, but I CHOOSE to hang out with them, and there’s a mutual love fest going on. My teen self can’t believe it! 🙂
These are the two non-profits referenced above:
FYI: Please share this letter with others you think would enjoy it.
Purple Passion of the Fortnight:
I wish I grew up in this house!
Purple Carson Mansion
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