I am currently in Seattle visiting my dearest friend. It is the second time I have been away on my own since Henry was 18 months old (he’s 3 now) and the first time since the twins were born. I realize I need to get out more but the logistics involved given our three small children and two full-time jobs makes that hard. Even so, I have to make it happen. Here’s why:First, I love it here. It is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever know. We used to live here, years ago, and I still miss it like crazy sometimes. The water makes me feel like the world is a big place and my problems are actually very small and everything is most likely going to be okay in the long run because there will always be a place I can go that is lovely and wide open and makes my heart happy.
Second, my girlfriend is the fucking best. We are very different people in some ways and our lives are basically at opposite ends of the adulting spectrum right now but she gets it. All of it. I don’t really even have to explain. Just being in the same room with her makes me feel more like myself and that myself is a good thing to be.
Third, being away from my home and my husband and my children has given me some much needed perspective. It’s almost as if struggling each day has become a habit for me. That I can’t ever see the light because I am always looking at the dark.
My life is not that hard. It’s not easy, by any means, but it’s not THAT hard and, even when it is, I can do hard things (thank you, Glennon). I’m having a wonderful time but I miss my husband and I miss my children and that feels good; it feels right.
I’m going home tomorrow and I’m going to do my damndest to hold on to to this feeling. That I can do this. That home is where I want to be. That sometimes it’s good to go away, but that I will always want to come back home again.