My mother told me once that I was good at running away, that when controversy looked me dead in the eyes instead of standing up for myself or taking it like a “mature” individual, I’d run. As a child, it was always small things, storming off from the dinner table and lounging in my room avoiding my parents dreaded glares as they slapped me on the wrist for my most recent poor decision. However, as I grew up, my journeys away from my problems got further and further.
Last summer I moved to New York City, after months of telling myself that it was for me, that I had left because that was what “I” wanted. However, after being in the city- alone, isolated, and working harder than I had ever been forced to work, I saw that I did not make that move for me or my personal happiness. I made that move for everyone one who doubted me. I made that move because the months prior I had convinced myself that I was being held in a cage, my problem was no longer radiated issues from others- but a certain internal turmoil. So I did what I’ve grown to do best, and I ran. I cut off all ties to my little life I had spent 20 years building, I recreated my social media, I said goodbye to my loved ones, and I fit everything I needed into one fifty pound suitcase. I was gone, at least that is what I thought.
As my time in Manhattan drew to an end, I came home for what was supposed to be a week- but turned into a month. I met up with the friends I had once scurried from, I drove down the Michigan backroad that had once felt so small and constrained. I realized that my trip away had taught me that I am my own worst enemy, that the only thing that was suffocating me was that of myself. We as individuals tend to build up these mentalities that a life worth living is a life that is different from those that are surrounding us. While that may be true, many of my generation thinks that bouncing around from place to place is the only way to grasp a personal freedom. However, I can say from experience that this life on the road is cold, it is lonely, and though it make allow you to grow into yourself, you grow away from those who still carry you closely.
Since August, I’ve returned to Saginaw Valley State University, and I’ve been asked countless times “why?” I’ve even been asked if I feel like a “failure” for returning. The answer I can give to questions like those, is this. I am no longer ashamed of who I am, I am no longer afraid to be unapologetically me. I am not a failure for returning to a life that has brought me so much unforeseen happiness, I am not a failure for missing my hometown and sporting my SVSU attire. Coming back isn't for everyone, but it was for me. Leaving taught me that I could, and coming back taught me that I can. I have faith that success isn't locational, I have faith that I am now equipped a newfound strength in my mentality which will pull me back from running and aim me straight to higher ground.
