awh hell

I have filled my home with things that I adore, from wall decor to smells for the season. It is unique to me, and me alone. It is a place to dig deep I to myself and discover all the unique things about me, and what I need to do to feel and be as authentic as I am in my home, to the outside world.

Not only move out of your mom's, move out alone. In a new town, but close enough to some friends or family for instant familiarity. Not all the friends you had in high-school are going to remain in your life. You'll lucky if you have 1, but you'll also meet some insanely great people the more you explore what the world has to offer you.

So many doors have closed, the end results being messy and with discombobulated feelings. Feelings that I still struggle with occasionally, but I no longer sit and obsess over it. I'm learning to sit with it, have a chat, and let it go on its way.

I think that moving to a new town on my own, where I didn't know anyone (aside from my brother, SIL, and nephew) - I was just far enough away from my hometown and everything that I knew at the time that I was forced into new environments, new people, new experiences.

Living alone for the first time in 28 years has been a growing experience in itself. I have grown to know myself, to learn to trust myself, and learn to express myself through various ways. I've grown to learn that it doesn't matter what other people perceive of me. Labels are fucking stupid. Just express yourself in anyway you can and be authentic. Not everyone is going to get it, and that's their problem. But those that do, they're going to be there no matter what.