Making it your own

Oh what up? I won't make any excuses for this hiatus because there aren't any. 

Growing up in Raleigh, North Carolina has its perks. For one, there are trees that line the highways. There's the diversity that one only gets from a "big" city. And every once and a while: a parade downtown worth going to. 

When I applied to college in 2006, I had a

n inclination to go as far away as possible. To spread my metaphorical wings and find another 

nest to incubate eggs and perch on large redwoods. As the application season progressed I was denied, and denied ... and denied again. In the end I was left with only local choices: nowhere to go but in my own backyard. It was okay though, because at that point I reasoned it wouldn't be so bad to be close; in fact, I was looking forward to it. 

The years that followed were filled with convenience. I could drive home to eat correctly (but I never did). I could solicit groceries and have them delivered (which I did often). And my mother begged to do my laundry (which I respectfully declined ... and then shamefully took advantage of). In many ways I was still at home, finding a footing where I already had one. I can't say it was uncomfortable; but I'm sure that uncomfortable is what college should be. It should be an adventure in self-discovery. It is a once-in-a-lifetime transition period that separates what one dreams in youth and what one chooses to acknowledge later on. It expands one's mind and stretches what one thinks is possible. The discomfort is what I believe should define. 

Sure, I've had my discomfort and it's not even over. But I feel I missed something. While my classmates were searching for new connections and trying to understand why unsweetened tea does not exist, I could cling to my roommate who I had known for four years previously and Bojangle it like it was nobody's business. 

What I am trying to get at is: I finally feel like I am not defined by anybody but myself. I am not my parent's son to anyone here. I am me. It is something that I feel that many have already gone through triumphantly. But to me this feeling is new. There's nothing to fall back on. When I meet someone new, there is no familial connection. What they see is what they get. I am an individual.

I know this situation is not new. Many people do not know my family; all they know is what I have given them to know. But it's strange nonetheless to be so removed from my root(s). There is no beginning of the story, or middle, or end, only the moment in which I interact. To be honest, it's a little frightening. I have no safety judgement to fall back on. I guess what I'm saying is that I've acknowledged that the picture of my life is a fraction more of me. Not that occupying less space equates to less importance. It's now in the beautiful detail.

PS: I'd like to thank Emily Brooke Duncan, Rachael Breinling, Julia Furlong, Albert Chi, and myriad more people for a memory-filled  SB'09 ( which I could not document due to camera malfunctions :( )!