Whether you are from a bustling metropolitan, a town so small it only has one traffic light or somewhere in between, hometowns are the beginning of our stories.

I was born and raised in Hokes Bluff, a small town on the North/East side of Alabama. A place where growing up you never past a stranger and love makes a family, not blood. Family reunions are celebrated from every Sunday to every holiday because extended family is only down the road. Yes, the closeness can get crazy because there is no such thing as a normal family, but this also means a lifelong friend, hearts filled with love, and memories that made you laugh until you cried.

Beginning a new school year was rarely a fresh start because, in a town as small as ours, we grew up together. We graduated Kindergarten with the same students that surrounded us at Gadsden State for high school graduation. On that memorable day, it took longer to read the class history than it did for each of us to make that momentous walk across the stage. Reminiscing about Elementary School where we held weddings on the playground, shaking our heads in shame at the insanity of Middle School, and sharing secret smiles about the days of high school. Teachers went to school with your parents’ years before and taught your siblings from the same classroom

I probably couldn’t name every person in my town, but that never kept the hugs and welcomes away. My one horse town taught me the meaning of family, and that while friendships may change, the most important thing is never forgetting how to be yourself.