First things first, our sweet boy had his surgery on Monday and is home resting and I am so thankful that he is going to be okay, the weight of worry hasn't be lifted yet, but I'm so thankful that he's home and he's going to make a full recovery.
Now that is out of the way, we moved and I posted the above photo to welcome everyone into the face that we had moved and I've been thinking a lot lately, What is home?
Clearly I consider the house I share with my husband my home, but I've been contemplating a trip to Mississippi, where my father lives because my grandfather is sick and it feels foreign to say that I need to go "home". That place isn't my home. It never was.
I consider Florida, where I grew up my home state, but Mississippi, my family just lives there. I also know trouble lives there. That's just something I've been thinking about a lot lately, I obviously don't want to miss this time with my grandfather, but too many people back "home" forgot who the fuck I am. I'd like to just fly in, see my family and leave, but blessings of a small town I guess.
I'd like to say I'm grown enough to just turn around and walk away, but my time away from there, I've grown, but I wouldn't say up, more like elevated. I've grown tired, tired of the bullshit and intolerance. I won't stand for the racist, disrespectful bullshit that Mississippi brings, I mean it goes deeper than that too, of course, it always does. I just know I'm going to find myself in a world that I'm not comfortable with and before I would just camouflage myself and not rock the boat.
I'm not that girl anymore, I'll fight, I'll fight every single day if I have to. I will not accept anything less that what I deserve. My brownness might have been a joke in the past, but in my home now, they accept me and love me for being brown and I know THAT is what I deserve.
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