We recently went back to LA for the first time since moving and... I was sad.
But not in the way I expected I might be upon returning to my home of 13 years. You see, the sadness I felt wasn’t sadness because I missed the familiarity of the weather or my old neighborhood or even my friends. Though sometimes, of course, I do. The sadness that crept up my spine and back into my bones came from the familiarity of something I don’t miss at all. A heavy, overwhelming, panic-inducing feeling that lived with me in LA for all those years. The feeling of being transient. I, much like many who live in LA, was a transient being, desperately trying to prove I was worthy of existing in this highly-coveted corner of the world.
My sadness today comes from my full heart breaking a little for myself, because I felt like I needed to stay here for so long. I believed that if I left, it’d mean I gave up on my dreams and in a way, I did. I gave up on the “dreams” that belonged to 10-year-old me who wanted to push everyone out of the way and take center stage at her dance recital. They weren’t mine anymore. The dreams I yearn for are comfort, security, giving and receiving love, sharing compassion and thoughtful consideration and to be the kind of woman my children felt safe with and look up to. I couldn’t fully become her until I stepped out of the sea of “dream” chasers in LA. Here I was again, temporarily being tossed in the current alongside them once more. Only this time, I wasn’t swimming or treading feverishly to keep my head above water or worse yet, slowly drowning alongside them.
I’m floating in a raft calmly on the surface and want to swiftly pull as many of their desperate souls aboard with me to give them some deserved relief. But, I can’t. Only they can come to the realization that the relief they seek and deserve isn’t treasure hidden somewhere in this deep sea of “dreams”.https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=4156553517710547&id=136141023085170
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