Every time I come home for break, it is an interesting personal experience. I always have readjust to my old home like I am a guest because things feel so different. It takes me a while to remember my old routine and figure out how to navigate it. My room has no cohesive deign look. It is literally all of my things from high school and college stored in a room. It looks like the mixture of a teenage girl’s room and a storage room. It feels like home but also like I am in someone else room. Every time I come home, I always feel like I am reconnecting with my pieces of my old self, sometimes forgotten pieces of myself.
Sometimes I feel a mix of “I don’t belong” here since I have been gone for so long and a sense of “I belong here” since I grew up here and this is my hometown. Often times it feels weird walking in my neighborhood and other familiar places because as I walk my memories associated with the places come back reminding me of how much I have changed and how much things have changed. Most of the places look the same but feel slightly different. I feel some form of energy attached to these places, as if they still have pieces of my spirit attached to them. I usually feel a need to pay some form of gratitude to them. Often times I feel a sense of sadness when I come back to New York as if with every visit I am further from what I knew. As if I am parting ways with my old self. Maybe I am grieving every time I come back to New York because I am letting go of so many things that were familiar.
Sorry, I do not really have a “Time to Focus on You” section this week, I just wanted to note some observations and see if anyone can relate in some form.
Photo by Sebasqien on Unsplash