Picture this: a southern belle, raised in Louisiana, programmed to think she would grow up, go to LSU, marry a southern gent, have kids—and raise them to do the same. She would never leave home, because there wasn’t anything beyond high school football, parties over the levee, and running the only town she’d ever known. Her kids’ best friends would be none other than the children of her best friends from high school and college. Eventually, they’d be running the streets she’d once called her own, following in her footsteps: raised on Tiger football, King Cake, and sweet baby Jesus. What a portrait, right?
That was what I envisioned for my life for 18 years, before I started to realize it’s okay to let go of that: what I once thought to be a "picture-perfect world." It’s okay to want something more, and most importantly, it’s vital that you realize there IS more out there than Friday-night football and your high school sweetheart. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about that picture if that’s what you truly want, but how could you ever be certain it's what you want for your life without jumping out of that framework and experiencing something new? It’s hard to say something is picture-perfect when you’ve never known anything else. That folks, was the hardest realization for me, but also the one I am most thankful for.
In the spring of my senior year, I was faced with the choice to go to LSU as many of my friends and I had always planned, or to throw all my plans down the drain by going to college somewhere completely new—where I knew no one, and nothing. So guess what? I ripped up that pretty picture I had painted in my head and for the first time in my life, I took a chance on the unknown. At the time it was the scariest decision I’d ever made. Honestly, I cried the entire 500-mile road trip from home to school at the end of that summer, but I trusted that it was what I needed to do. I needed to see what was out there. I needed to picture my world from a different perspective—so I did.
Leaving the only life I’d ever known was terrifying, but quickly—day by day—I started to build a new picture of home all the way in Nashville, TN. It was hard. I loved my new life, but I couldn’t let go of my old one. I couldn’t let go of that picture perfect world I’d found on the Red River for so many years. However, I found that the more I gave into my new life by making new friends, taking on new positions, and exploring new places—the more I realized how pieces of my once picture-perfect world had prepared me for those moments. I couldn’t have successfully moved forward without all the lessons I’d learned from my hometown, so I began to incorporate those pieces into my new life as opposed to starting from scratch. I realized I didn’t need to rip that picture up that I’d imagined for so long and throw it away. Rather, I needed to find a way to use the pieces of it to grow into a new life.
Eventually, as I started to bring parts of my old vision into the new one I was creating, I realized letting go didn’t mean betraying the life I had once hoped for. It also didn’t discredit how great of a life that could have been or could be for other people back home. Ultimately, I realized letting go didn’t mean I had to throw away the picture I’d had in my head all those years. In fact, it meant quite the opposite really. So slowly I began to piece the picture back together, but this time with some new pieces that complimented the old. As those pieces started to come together, I found myself recognizing all the wonderful things about my hometown; how they had shaped me into the person I am and taught me everything I needed to know in order to be successful and happy in a new environment. Letting go meant that what I once had called home had given me such strength that I could take a leap of faith and move on to something new, and that in no way is a bad thing. I found that I wasn’t leaving home, but rather taking pieces of it with me to share with the rest of the world- and that has been nothing short of a blessing.
Molding a new home for myself turned out to be the greatest decision I’ve ever made, but I couldn’t have done it without keeping where I came from ‘in the picture.’ So never feel guilty about making a change and painting a new picture for your life as long as you’re still thankful for where you’re coming from. Never feel guilty about sharing pieces of your once picture-perfect world with another, because there’s honestly no better way to honor where you came from. You don’t have to give your new home your whole heart—all the pieces of your picture. Rather, share your old home's heart and spirit with your new life, piece by piece. Eventually, the pieces will come together and create something extraordinarily beautiful. However, it’s important to remember that no new photos could be captured without that original, picture-perfect idea. Because of that you owe that first photo, your hometown, everything.
So here’s to LSU football, southern hospitality, and Cajun cooking—you will always have a place in my picture-perfect world. And I promise to do you justice wherever I go.
