Homesick

           I am homesick. Extremely homesick. I miss my friends and family. I miss winter in all its white glory. I miss my rickety old farmhouse that oozed charm and character. I miss living in a place that aligned more closely with my values and morals. I miss the glory of the mountains. I even miss the local supermarket, which offered endless choices. But most of all, I miss feeling connected.

            I am no stranger to moving. I have now lived in five different states, all located in different regions of the country. Each with its unique culture. Every time I moved I left a piece of myself behind, but also grew as an individual, becoming a better person along the journey. However, none of the previous moves hit me as hard as this one has. In every other place I have lived, I made new friends almost instantaneously. I had school, work, or other activities to keep me occupied

and feeling remotely fulfilled.  I felt a sense of belonging. Even in Baltimore, a place I was not particularly fond of, I had friends, family, and connections.

Four and half months into our move to Tampa and I have met only two or three people, none of whom I would call friends. I attend story time and a moms and tots group once a week for the mere sake of getting out of the house. The conservative religiously based culture is at odds with my beliefs and morals. I feel stifled and extremely alone.

In a week I am returning to Baltimore and Vermont. I will spend time celebrating Lucy’s Birthday and the holidays with friends and family. I am excited, and petrified. Excited to once again feel connected, loved, and free to express myself. Petrified that the trip will only heighten my homesickness. Meanwhile, I will continue to struggle and pray that both my physical and emotional state are temporary.