We all have that place that puts us in our comfort zone. If not completely, it at least starts the process of getting comfortable. For so many years, I hid from this place. I unintentionally ran from it. At some point, it became more hurtful than helpful to leave it partially behind. The place that birthed me became familiar but new. My beloved, New York City was That Place.
Years ago, you'd only catch me in the 5 boroughs twice a year or for family gatherings. I'd never forgotten about home but I didn't love being there anymore. I didn't enjoy what it had to offer. I definitely didn't appreciate the winter months. By luck, chance or blessing, I took a new job and New York City became apart of my weekly itinerary. In some cases, I'd be there twice in one week. As familiar as I was with this place, I began to find a new love for it. I began to reignite the fire that used to light the pavement before and after every step I took. You never really lose your NYC but it sometimes tones down and takes a seat. This fire would soon start a 4-alarm blaze to life as I knew it.
In the last 18 months or so, I watched my life erupt into flames. Smoke billowed inside of and around me. I knew it was toxic yet I couldn't find an extinguisher or a window to open. Slowly, my charred remains became so evident, I could no longer recognize myself. I had no idea who was in the mirror. The only part that reminded me of me was my writing. No matter what I looked or felt like, this was me. There was no denying it.
With a spirit and mind so deeply damaged, it was hard to pick up the pieces (I laugh a little because of the Hustle Man episode of Martin). Each time that I left Miami and went home, it started to feel more like home. I began repairing myself, one city block at a time. Aimlessly walking through the city, visiting family and reconnecting with friends became more important than any beach day. Sitting in the park with my notebook and writing app made sense. It put things into perspective. Not to say there aren't days where I want to go back but, now is not the time.
Not one person in my inner circle imagined that I'd move back any time soon. Not one. I grew restless and stagnant almost overnight. I threw the idea out there but I knew no one would take it seriously. The more I thought about it, the more I grew attached to the idea and the more it made sense. I didn't need anyone to cosign it, I just needed you to listen and be supportive. With slight delay, I made my exit. Everything was sold minus my clothes. There was no need in carrying more than I could handle. Although I had to make a pitstop in DC for 2.5 months, I was gone. New York (via New Jersey for economic reasons) was home again. No longer the young lady from the Bronx, I returned as the grown woman ready to take care of business.
Remembering and rebuilding myself was difficult and easy at the same time. I don't have the answers but I have a pretty good idea of what works for me. Find your place and never neglect it. Let it lead you to your next peace and place.