sometimes only coming home has the power to heal all our wounds.
when i left my apartment on december 14, 2017, my heart was raw and my eyes swollen from the previous night’s tears. ending relationships is always hard, but ending one that you weren’t even able to fully begin is harder.
through three weeks with my two sisters, two parents, two brothers-in-law, and one baby niece, my empty heart has healed. not completely, but enough. i have laughed until i cried, danced around the kitchen, and escaped to my air mattress for naps and brief moments of peace. i have come back to life. i have moved from feeling my emotions so palpably to pushing them to the back of my mind for later contemplation. they are still there, but more silenced than i was capable of achieving on my own.
coming home for the holidays is never easy once you’ve grown up and moved away, but there are so many reasons to return: being near the people that continue to raise and teach you, silly but timeless traditions, and spending time in your jammies sitting on the living room floor.
i hope your holidays provided you with peace, comfort, and wisdom, in whatever way you needed.
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