we have wings

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamt of oceans.  Of sand in between toes and waves crashing against calves.  Of dim light and that smell that gets caught in your hair after a few hours of walking.  Quiet and peace.  Water.

I was lucky enough to grow up in Colorado, where every Western view is a roadmap home.  Where every day begins and ends with bright purples and pinks and yellows.  Where gray queens say hello.

But there’s not much water here.  I remember always seeking it out.  Luckily, we have parks with beautiful lakes and mountain trails that lead to waterfalls.

I never found peace, though, until I stood–shivering–on a foggy morning in Big Sur.


For years now, I’ve made plans to leave Colorado.  Sometimes, in just a daydream-y way.  Sometimes, in ways that had legs.  Each time?  It fell apart.  It was like home had teeth, and it didn’t want me to go.  Things happened.  I happened.  And so, I stayed–still plotting my getaway.

I love Colorado.  Probably more than I should.  But I am weary of it.  The state has taken its fair share of beatings in recent years, and I’m outgrowing things.  I feel myself getting jaded and rigid.  The bloom is off the rose.  It’s home, but it doesn’t feel like home.  I have nothing keeping me here anymore.  No parents.  No family.  My best friends are on both coasts.  I have a job that is independent of geography.  None of the schools here offer what I want educationally.  And honestly, my heart is elsewhere.

I’ve been craving oceans.  I’ve been craving new adventures.  Good Mexican food.  Diversity.  Close proximity to the people I call home.  A connection to my parents I don’t know.

My roommate and I have talked about moving before.  We were pretty convinced that Boston made sense.  The best schools.  A sense of history.  Different landscapes to explore.  Yes.

I was a little afraid, though.  Boston was about as far out of my comfort zone as you get.  So Eastern.  I’m a Western girl, through and through, and though I’ve visited, I wasn’t sure.

It got backburnered as life continued and changed as a soon–but not now–sort of thing.

And then things started changing.  In strange, often frustrating ways.

For months now, I’ve found my heart being tugged by California.

I felt jealous when my friends in San Francisco and LA posted their pictures.  I planned trips to do research for projects later this year.

But, in the back of my head, I kept wondering if I shouldn’t just move there.  I knew I needed a change, and California felt like a manageable change…one that wouldn’t be too hard for me given how familiar I am with it and all the people I know out there.

I didn’t really say anything.  And then lots of random things happened and then my roommate mentioned he’d gotten a call from an old boss asking him about a job.  And a conversation happened.  And then San Diego was introduced into the realm of inevitable somethings that he needed to do for said job.


So, we’re moving.  To San Diego.  Home of my very best friend.  A place with beaches and quaint neighborhoods and good schools and Mexican food.  And history.  A place where I can take care of me.  He’s moving there for a job and another shot to do something great.  I’m moving there 100% for me–for my sanity and for a new start.  I need it.

I’ll be close to places where my parents lived–so I can work on things that make me happy.  I’ll have support all around.  I’ll be five hours from the only family that still exists for me.  I can go to places that make me feel alive and more me.  I can have space and reclaim things I’ve lost.  I’m happy.

We’re leaving in the next year.  Not sure exactly when, but probably not before the holidays.

I’ve decided to get my MSW out there–possibly at USC or UCSD.  Or who knows?  I’m pretty excited.  And in a turn-around (ha), I think I am going to go the clinical route for a bit and then do Macro for my eventual PhD.  And that will likely be pursued in Boston or even New Orleans.  I’m not quite sure, but I’ve got time.

Until then, I’ll be slowly saying goodbye to my beloved Colorado–although I feel like we’ve been saying goodbye since I first planned to move away to LA.  I was naive and so not ready then.  Now, I feel like I actually know what I’m doing.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: