My Florida

It's taken nearly 18 years to accept Florida as my home. Sure, my beautiful girls were born here, I own my little personal piece of paradise, and I will probably never live anywhere else...but, it never truly felt like my home...the kind of home that evokes feelings of comfort, peace and belonging. Somehow I've always felt somewhat like a visitor and this was just a short stop along my journey. I guess since my parents split, I've always felt like something of a drifter...not quite fitting perfectly anywhere. Sure, my parents (and step-mom) have done their best to keep me close, but I don't have a family home to return to, and I never will. It doesn't necessarily make me sad but it does allow me (when I let it) to feel less attached, less secure, like somehow my tenuous hold to this earth will be taken from me at any moment. But, each day I send my roots a little deeper. No longer am I like the stunning majestic palms that welcome me home daily...whose roots run right along the surface. I'm more like the sturdy oak that continues to weave its way deeper and deeper into the ground. I am finally allowing the sandy soil on which I've built my life to truly soak into my soul...and I'm relieved.