I used to love going through airports and sitting on airplanes. The thought of being among strangers with unique stories and the thought of going somewhere new excited me so much. I would always sit next to the window so I could see the world from above. I still love all of this, but these years there is a twinge of sadness too. A feeling that I’m being split in two, emotionally.
I grew up in Colorado. It is my first home, where I got to know my family and made friends. It’s where I got my start as a kid. I’ve lived in Los Angeles for the last 6 years. It is my second home, where I went to college, made friends, and turned a passion into a career. It’s where I got my start as an adult.
Two homes, but I can never be in both places at once. Airplanes have the power to take me to them, but they also take me away. I often find myself wanting the travel time to go by as quickly as possible, so I don’t feel like I’m in such a metaphorical limbo. But I wouldn’t trade my situation for anything, because what matters most is the people that I get to come home to at each end. Two pots of gold at each end of the rainbow, and boy do I feel lucky. 🌈