So I came back to visit my hometown because it is Father’s Day this weekend. My hometown is this really small town and I haven’t really felt exactly comfortable here for quite a few years. There are some aspects of coming home that I really like. I like getting to see old friends. I like to hang out with the family. I like to breath the clean air. I like to see the stars. I like to visit the trees that I have known in our shared lifetimes upon this lush green land.
There is always a sense of longing when I come home. I lost somebody very special and close to my heart here several years ago. Coming here always stirs up some of those same emotions. I can recall a million places and things I did with this person, but while some of them are happy moments and great memories, they always fill me with a deep longing. I wish they were here with me still, I wish they were here with me now.
The other part of coming back home that fills me with anxiety is my whole recent revelation that I am a genderqueer person and that I am a trans person. I am still trying to figure out all the ins and outs of that. I am still trying to understand what I need to do to be happy with these aspects of myself. That is hard on its own. I’ve got people that support me and that appreciate the changes I am going through, but I am not quite ready to tell my parents yet. I am worried about what they will think or what they will say. Ideally I would like them to welcome me with open arms and I think that perhaps they will. But, I am sure there will be the awkward moment where they say the wrong thing and my feelings get a little hurt or I have to try and explain myself to them. I am trying to prepare myself for moments like that. I think it will happen, but I need to figure out where I am at as much as possible for I tell them what is going on. That is a rough one, because sometimes it feels like just by not telling them exactly what is going on that I am lying to them or that I am hiding something. I’m not lying to them, but I am hiding something. So there is some guilt there, perhaps rightfully so.
I grew up in a small town, but currently I live in a big city. Coming back home always has its anxieties.
I live alone. So for me being around other people constantly is always stressful. It’s usually enjoyable as long as it is only for a few days, but then I always have to go back home and learn how to be alone again without feeling lonely. There is a trick to that, that I haven’t quite mastered yet. It usually takes me a while to get back in the swing of things when I get home. There is also, not a lot to do down here. I am basically just kickin’ it around the house. In the city there is always something going on. Also nighttime out here is a strange and terrible phenomenon. I don’t sleep well out here. It gets entirely too dark at night. And there is virtually no noise. I have been living in the city for far too long. If I don’t hear gunshots and sirens in the distance, I just don’t feel safe. Yeah, I know: irony!