In and out...

and I'm not talking about the burger chain, although I wish I were. We flew in to California last Wednesday morning and out again on Sunday morning. Our purpose was to experience the area and try to determine a potential place to live- we did, and we didn't. Within those five days we probably experienced more emotion, excitement, fear, anxiety, confusion, and growing than we would have had in five months of therapy, but in the end I hate to say the trip wasn't anything like we had anticipated and everything we hadn't and it kind of sucks.

Lucky for me I was born and brought up in a house where my parents actually loved me. They told me they loved me, kept me safe and secure, never abused me, hugged and kissed me every day and night, literally tucked me into bed when I was little, read to me, played with me, made me feel important, taught me about good and bad, allowed me to grow at my own pace, didn't smother me with their own stuff and gave me stability- solid stability. They did everything I believe parents should do, but as we all know that isn't always the case. I consider myself very lucky. I also consider myself cursed. Cursed because as I've learned over the years and more so since I've evolved into the adult that I am that all of that stability I had when I was young has in a way kept me from growing and is making it more difficult for me to accept change- now in my life. What does my stable childhood have to do with moving to California? Well, I'm having a real hard time thinking about uprooting my life here in Chicago and letting go of all the comforts, security, knowledge and familiarity that I have, to go to a place where the exact opposite will exist. We are not familiar with California, have no connections out there, don't know our way around and personally I don't really feel like learning it all- it's a pain.

I've only moved once in my life. Besides living away at college for four years and living in two separate apartments in Boston, I've lived- really lived in only two I'll say 'homes' my whole life. My house, where I grew up and this apartment for the last 11 years. As a kid, I lived with the constant knowing that the bedroom I was sleeping in and the house we were living in was as solid as the cement and bricks that surrounded us. Let's just say I slept very, very soundly. I never had to deal with multiple schools, moving from place to place or making new friends so my mind never had to go there. unlike myself, if you are a kid who was never really loved or or is used to living in fear and instability, moving as an adult would probably have little effect on you. As a matter of fact it would probably feel more comfortable because it's what you were used to. Not so much for me.

Being in California last week was anything but a vacation for us both. We actually felt like we were working and went to bed every night as if the next day was another work day with lots to accomplish. Who looks forward to work. Every morning the maps came out, gas tank filled, and minds set on overdrive. We visited each town not with amazement, joy and relaxation but instead with our guards up, our spidey sense activated and our focus on 'do we fit in'. It's really hard to visit an unfamiliar place with thoughts that you may be living there someday. Live- really live there. It's like all of a sudden being a lefty instead of a righty or vice verse- you know? confusion, awkwardness and feeling discomfort runs rampant. Issues came up, arguments ensued, and our relationship took a beating. All because the both of us were freaked- out of our minds that we were actually thinking of moving to California and there we were in the middle of the process. Yikes. In the end nothing felt perfect- not the weather, not the roads, not the people and not any town we visited. There were glimpses of joy and sighs of relief here and there but when we got home we felt beaten and discouraged. Places were either too much or too little; too big or too small; too beautiful and fake or too crappy and unattractive. Nothing felt normal- nothing. Do we let go of our dream to live in a warm climate with beauty and joy surrounding us or do we throw in the towel and stay put here in Chicago- who knows. Moving back East is an option but it just doesn't feel like the right one- not yet. All I kept saying on the trip was "why is it so damn hard to get what you want". This whole thing is so difficult from every angle but know we are stuck because we started the ball rolling and we can't really go back. That's the thing with change, inviting change and growing- no one ever said it was easy but everyone always says it's worth it. Shit, just get me to the other side.

I sure would love to be zapped back to childhood where my decisions were monitored, my mistakes were fixed and my mind was like a sponge. And the safety of my bedroom was just steps away from the safety of my whole little life. Or at the very least back in California, sitting down in the sun eating an In and Out burger.