Running Home

On the flight back to New York, I was seated behind the mother and sister of a former teenage nemesis. We exchanged pleasantries, and I honestly wished all of them well. I felt a calmness settle on me along with excitement to be returning to the city. It was as if my apprehensions were not banished, but were now running out in front of me, harnessed. For weeks I thought it was the idea of returning to New York that was making me anxious, but on the way back, I started to think maybe it was the not being there that was making me anxious.

I thought, I am returning to the woman I am in New York. I realized that I love that woman, and I don't want to lose her when I move to Chicago. That may sound dramatic, but I feel like every time I make a really big change in my life, a small death occurs (and not the good, French kind ;)). The person who emerges is necessarily built out of the old one, but she's not quite the same. She can't be.

While I was home, I went back and excavated some of my old journals from storage. I felt like I could handle the embarrassment of looking at raw teenage me. Teenage me was, as I remembered, kind of embarrassing and confused and naive and really, really angry. But she was also brave and strong and funny and thoughtful. I'm still her, reborn though I have been and will be, over and over again. I'm also different in good ways - I like to think I've gotten too wise to collect enemies anymore. And I am not nearly as angry, ha!

We all have to do this in life. Trying to hold onto one static identity forever is a) impossible and b) would leave no room for growth. I don’t think I can summarize it better than this brilliant scene from that American classic Bridesmaids:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7L2sVq4bzQ

Let’s pause for a moment to appreciate the brilliantly understated comic tension of this scene.

Done? Okay.

Not to sell out my girl Kristen Wiig, but I think they’re both right. We may not get to choose what stays and what goes away, as Florence + the Machine once spaketh*, but a little faith in the permanence of character and love helps a lot in overcoming the fear of changing. That’s the other thing. We get to keep the people we love, and they keep us, and remind us of who we are even when we might forget, and let us become who we need to, all the while loving each iteration. Or at least the really good ones do. Thank God for them. And thank God for New York. Running home to you is the best feeling in the world.

*THAT IS A WORD. DON’T QUESTION IT.