Going Home

A lot of people make fun of my hometown.

I get it; Fresno is an easy target. It’s isolated, surrounded by farms, and there really isn’t much to do there.

But, it’s home. It’s my family is. It’s where my friends are. It’s where I studied. It’s where I learned, lived, laughed and loved for the first time.

I left my new home in Burbank to go back to Fresno for a dear friend’s wedding shower. She will be married in one month. It will be my first wedding since the separation.

I’m thrilled for her. I didn’t really think I’d have a problem with being happy for someone I love so much, but I had no feelings of bitterness. Maybe it’s also because I still really believe in love, even if I’m not sure I’ll ever get married again. I might be cynical and a little jaded, but I’m so very happy for her. She looked so beautiful and she really looks happy, 100% sure of the step she is taking. I sat at the shower with an old friend  and for the first time, really cried about what I had done. Why then, why with her, why not before, I’m not sure. They weren’t tears of sadness, to be sure. They were just tears of tension. I’m tense about making something of myself. I’m tense about what people think of me even though I absolutely cannot care because when we do what we think others want us to do instead of following our hearts, we set ourselves up for absolute destruction.

I cried because someone else understood the despair, maybe not in my way, but in a real way of her own and I wanted so badly to impart this information to her: You cannot hold it in. Whatever pains you, hurts you, challenges you, and frustrates you needs to be shared. If you share your worries, fears, frustrations and pain, and allow others to help hold you up or ease what ails you, there will be relief. They will be progress. There will be growth.

It’s not impossible for me to have these kinds of breakthroughs in other parts of the world. I just always seem to figure things out when I’m at home, amongst people who know me, almost as well as I know myself.

Going home isn’t just something I do in my car; it’s how I reconnect. I may be driving to Fresno, but when I go back I’m constantly rediscovering a part of myself I’ve hidden away. I like to see how it fits in with the woman I’m becoming. I am enjoying the transition, even when it comes with a few tears and a mending heart. I’m not on my way to happiness; I’m there. I’m walking around, figuring out where, if anywhere, that I’ll settle down.


One thought on “Going Home

  1. It’s interesting how different my experience is with going home to Fresno/Clovis these days. For me it sort of reflects back my growth, When I arrive in Fresno I become aware of all the changing and growing I’ve done. Perhaps part of it is that those people who “know me, almost as well as I know myself” are not solely, or even mostly, in Fresno any more. A few are, but at least as many are in other places. So like you, it is with them that I tend to really find myself, but that’s not always in Fresno., In fact lately I’ve begun to feel that too much time in Fresno/Clovis puts me at risk of regressing into patterns or habits I’ve given up or outgrown.

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