I appreciate the concept of moving. I knew a lot of friends who moved around quite a bit in their childhood and they never really felt they had a true "home." But in my case, each move I've made has come with some significant shift in my life.
When my family move in high school, it was really beginning of my own reinvention. It marked the start of my transformation, out of the timid and shy little girl who was too afraid to ask grocery clerks where things were.
When I moved away for college, it helped me to see who I could be on my own. It helped me to find out what I wanted to do with my life, apart from anyone else's expectations of me, and gave me the time to build the courage to go get that life.
When I moved out of the P's house after graduate school, it really emphasized and deepened the rift in our relationship. Maybe one of the hardest times in my life, but like ripping off a band-aid, though it was painful at the time, the wounds really needed to breathe in order to heal. The only way I would gain any true independence was to be the one to deliver such a sharp blow.
As I get ready to move again, into my husband's home, I first send off the P's. I really hope that it's a new beginning for them too. The beginning of their discovering who they are again, as individuals. Rather than dutifully denying themselves their own identities, I hope they can rediscover what it means to live in this world, to enjoy what's out there.
So here's to the weekend. There's much to celebrate...my first weekend on true freedom, raises...just plain making it through another week without going entirely insane. But not too much rest for the weary. I've calculated that I need to lose 2 pounds a week to be on target with my weight loss plan. Yikes. Good thing my DVDs came in today.
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