I am forcing myself to be honest, for the sake of reflection, personal growth, and to remove the straightjacket constraining my lungs, my heart, and my thoughts. Up until recently, I never knew what it meant to feel "homesick." I had an idea, largely because I am not an idiot and am empathetically natured to a fault, but it was something I never experienced firsthand. Perhaps it was due to all of the movement in my life (New York -> New Jersey, New Jersey -> Texas, Texas -> Texas, Texas -> California, and, most recently, California -> New York)... or perhaps it was due to the people I cared about being sprinkled across the world, in the same way you would expect a toddler to decorate their own birthday cake.
Moving to New York was in part inspired by a moonshot goal and in part inspired by the desperate sprint I started after my life in Los Angeles was shattered. A partner being accused of, arrested for, and convicted of varying counts of sexual assault will do that to you, I guess. Who would have thought? But despite the intentions that led me to the Big Apple, the impact has been transformative. I have become more resilient, independent, and brave. I walk with my shoulders drawn back, and I am unafraid to look up at the movement around me. There is no doubt in my mind that my current version of my self is who I am supposed to be at this moment of time.
And a part of all this growth has been learning to grow roots, a rather foreign concept to me. Oftentimes I find myself struggling to connect with people who share stories of their hometown. By definition, a hometown is the town where one was born or grew up, or the town of one's present fixed residence. I didn't grow up in a particular town, I grew up in experiences, moments, and with people. I grew up that time my passport was lifted from my being on a flight to Germany. I grew up that time I said goodbye to Mayumi, after she succumbed to her eternal slumber. I grew up in the arms of my dad and Pumbas, and during the year I spent navigating New York City with Viv.
Throughout it all, I never felt that I had a fixed residence. I had an address, a roof over my head, and a room with my possessions. I had walls and windows and doors, but nothing that resembled what I have heard a hometown can look like. I found my hometown, a place where I am growing up and a present fixed residence, in New York, in my apartment. I found a place I enjoyed returning to, I found a safe haven, and I found a home. However, it wasn't until my recent travels and a recent threat to the security of it all that I realized what I had found.
I spent a couple of weeks back in California, saying what felt like a last final goodbye for the time being. When I initially left, I was running away. It's not something I care to admit, but it's the truth. I found myself in a flurry of pain, a blizzard of confusion and betrayal and fear. And I ran. I ran as fast and as far as a U-Haul could carry myself and my life in two feet by two feet boxes. This time around, though, was dramatically different. I had emerged from the ashes, a baby phoenix, with a plumage I was proud to display. I reconnected with old friends, new friends, my LA familia, and communities I have actively missed over the course of the past year. And throughout it all, I felt the itch to return to my New York nest. A feeling that lied deep in my heart and my gut, close to nausea but even closer to something I could not quite pinpoint. A feeling that can only be described by the audible symbol "homesickness."
I came home to the familiar smells, sights, and sounds of a place I can finally call home, knowing that it would be occupied with an element of strangeness. A species newly introduced into an ecosystem that had found its harmony. But, due to what felt like the perfect storm... and I mean that in the Castaway Wilson the beach volleyball sense and less the thunderstorms I love watching from the windowsill sense, it turned out that it wasn't quite a match and the domino effect led to a great deal of housing insecurity. While it's beginning to look like things will right themselves shortly, the fear, sadness, and sense of loss I felt was unexpected. And all I can say is that, I am reveling in the fact that I have a place to host my heart for the time being.
