on comfort food.

I learned a lot in Boston, but I lost something, too. It went away slowly, so much so that I wasn't aware of losing it until my last few days. Living in a big city hardened me a little bit. I lost my softness, my sympathy. Of course, it's completely my own fault, but it was a little bit of a defense mechanism. I was acutely aware of being a young person alone in a big city, so I stopped making eye contact on the street. I didn't smile at the homeless people. I withdrew, which is something I did far too much anyway, before Boston. 

I loved being up north for a season, but I could never live there. Between Boston and London, I realized that I'm not sure I ever want to live outside of the South. My first full day home was exactly as I'd have drawn it up. It was hot, and slow, and a little bit quiet. Easy. I drove down the two-lane highway (in my own car! for the first time since April!) to my grandparents' house, where I laughed and ate ice cream and did little household tasks— all very normal things, but things I've missed out on this summer.

As I unpack, both literally and mentally, from this summer, I'm working on undoing that knot Boston tied in me. I think that more than anything, it's a matter of familiarity. Recently, I've decided that I'm a comfort food person. One night while we were in London, we had ordered Indian takeout, which was one of the first times I've had legit Indian food. And you know, it was fine, but I just don't have exotic tastes. I've never been one for anything fancy— I mean, my idea of a perfect night is chicken fingers and a baseball game. Even as I start trying to cook more, and pick out new recipes to try, I just don't choose fancy spices or groundbreaking culinary combinations. 

I think there's plenty to be said for stepping outside of your comfort zone. That's what I did all summer. But I also think there's a reason your comfort zone exists. It's where you thrive, where you are the most happy, the most you. It's important to get outside of that area every now and then, to see if maybe your comfort zone is bigger or different than you previously thought. Try new things, but know that it's okay to come back to that sweet spot. 

So for now, I'm back. I tried big city Northern living, and it was fun and wonderful and great for a summer, and I learned so much, but it's not my scene. Traveling and adventuring is important and exciting, but it gets a little wearisome. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm ready to be done with airports for a little bit. So now, this next season is going to be about comfort food: getting back to the people, places, routines that I love best. It feels a little strange right now, a little unfamiliar, more like I'm following an instruction manual instead of writing my own novel. Like when I borrow my sister's chacos, and they fit, but the straps feel a little funny, because they're not used to having my feet in them.  The longer I wear the shoes, though, the better they fit.

chacos and chicken fingers: it's good to be home.