A lot of places, people, and opportunities have been rerouting me back to my starting place. Back to my first line of defense and first experience of deceit. Back to where my traumas stem from and where I first developed my sense of predator vs. prey.

A lot of places, people, and opportunities have been rerouting me back home.

I’ve been very wary of using the word “home” in any way related to where I was birthed and grew up. I have been cautious of assigning a sense of safety and familiarity to a place that has grown my sense of danger and distraction from my true goals. I have been avoiding this place where I learned about the dimensional systems of oppression working against me through experience rather than education. And I have been firmly, firmly against ever returning or claiming it my safe haven again.

But I am slowly feeling called back… and wondering if it makes me more weak or dumb for answering in relief.

I’ve been running and running for years under the guise of institutional obligation while in college. But now that I’m done, where do I go? Do I continue to run, as I have been doing for the past full year? Or do I seek long-term shelter and respite? (And actually believe that I deserve it this time?)

These questions have been circling my head and pressing against my well-meaning intentions for a long while now. And as I see jobs and collaborations and professional relations in my current environment begin to decline through funding, ethics, and miscommunication, I’m beginning to believe that these shifts are not accidental. I’m beginning to believe that I am being reasoned with through universal placement and strategy. I’m beginning to believe that these avenues are closing and merging me into yet another temporary destination- one that is familiar.

Financially, mentally, and physically it would perhaps make sense to return to where I am the most stable financially, the most challenged socially, and the most active physically… but “home” is still where I struggle the most mentally.

I’m no stranger to mental battles and trials that plague me anywhere I go- but they seem to overwhelm me when I go “home.” The seem to join forces with my environmental associations of traumatic events and misplaced dreams. They seem to converge with my discomfort with contentment and disgust with complacency. They seem to all come at me at once in an attack of my already-present anxieties.

But I have been battling all of these same issues in my current place of residence, where the tune of small-town mentalities is all too familiar though not familial. And I have been slowly learning over the past year how to defend myself at the edge of my seat and become vulnerable at the back of my mind.

Maybe this year was meant to prep me for my ultimate return home, to face my deepest fears and walk among my largest inventions of danger. Maybe I was meant to tread in a middle ground between a big city and a small town, and learn how to navigate the scenery.

Maybe this time I’ll be ready to battle, for the sake of my sense of safety.

May you be well, May you be happy, May you be free from suffering

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