I sorted through my old blog posts from ten years ago, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why did I stop doing this?”. I could come up with a few reasons, but I’ll land on how residency and work took over my life that destroyed any possible hobbies I once had. I guess I will take some of the blame on it too (if I have to). Similarly to how one of the plants I purchased, met a terrible end; she desperately needed repotting and water. That being said, after a recent feature in USA Today on a Valentine’s Day-related post, it’s time I reinvest in this passion and maybe give up trying to make the whole plant dad thing work.
When I started my poorly designed WordPress, followed by somewhat less cringy Squarespace site, it was at a time where I was in the “finding myself” and “I am leaving the Northeast and not coming back” phases. I say that facetiously, but also in truth that I was a different person in so many ways. And, I realized that I wanted so bad to get away at that time, but somehow I am back in the good ole’ Tri-state area.
And, why is that? I have been this East Coast nomad for years from being a Florida Gay-tor to pretending to be Gossip Girl in the Upper East Side to finding an unexpected, temporary home in North Carolina. It’s because I have always had my roots planted here. My entire family is in the area and that family is growing, with my brother and sister both having two kids. The majority of my core friend group that I have known since preschool is here; all blooming in their own adventures. The way I carry myself, my style, how I speak, the sports team I root for, how I know the cured breakfast meat is called Taylor ham (not pork roll) and that the jersey shore does not always refer to where the TV show was filmed – all have a certain Philly-Jersey flair.
It is an exciting, but scary, surreal move back. My roots have grown far from where they first started, and are very different. Before leaving, I was not entirely sure of who I was, where I would end up, and I was not out; I have grown out of my original bubble, and I am beyond happy I have. But, would my old roots be able to intertwine seamlessly with my newer ones? Am I ready to be back in space that I once desperately felt I needed to leave? I would be adjusting from the son/brother/uncle/friend who lives far away, showing up for a holiday or two to the friend that now lives within a 20-minute drive. I would be leaving my job with amazing coworkers, where I truly developed personally and professionally – and start over in a new role. I would need to take the annoying state law exam for pharmacy too. I would be finding a new apartment and living with my partner, which combated the solo independence vibe I always said I would never lose.
Spoiler alert: what I can say is after about six months of living in a Philly industrial-styled loft, with my partner, in a brand new role, and with an Eagles Superbowl sweep, I couldn’t be happier (said in a Glinda-like tone if I could sing). These roots are indeed different from before, but the difference is I now know exactly what they are, how to water them, and when to give them light. I am reclaiming hobbies that I let go, reconnecting with old family and friends, and building intentional, new relationships.
I am ready for this writing journey to begin again and excited for how it will take shape. I spent too much time worrying about my roots, old and new, matching perfectly; when in reality, they never will. I don’t need to focus on the perfect melding and growth or second guessing my next steps. I have already blossomed in so many ways, and will continue to do so – which I just need to continue to let happen. It is not my job to connect the roots. I need to stand in who I am now, who I have grown into; the rest can grow with me, around me, or become things that need to be replanted. And, I encourage others to do the same as we all try to figure out this crazy journey we call life. I will be there too, writing away.
-JackofAllStories
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