Change Is Me

After monumental changes, it always takes me a while to find not only happiness, but myself. Learning how to fit in, what my purpose is, whether I want to fullfill that purpose, how to be, how to look, where to find solitude, where to find people, how to feel at home... It's all such a challenge when you abandon everything you know. After change, there are so many readjustments to be made. Not surprisingly though, most of them are mental. I fight conversion. Physically and mentally alientating myself from new surroundings seem to be the easiest way to fight. No, this isn't where I'm from. Naw, I don't know nothing about that. Uh uh, that's not how we do it where I'm from. No, that's alright cuz I'm going home for the weekend. There's no such thing as "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" for me. I resist change until it's humanly impossible. I don't know when that 'humanly impossible' time hit during this trip, but that time is long gone. I'm finally blissfuly happy with my life. I am no longer just a Washingtonian. What I am now is a Washingtonian who found herself in California and grew into womanhood in New York. I have layers upon layers upon layers of an identity. As it turns out, change is my best friend. Who I am is a result of change.