I haven’t ventured back to Texas on my own since I moved out at 18. I’ve never had a reason to come back (excluding once to see my grandmother). Texas has left a sour taste in my mouth. It’s not Texas’ fault either- I just didn’t enjoy much of my time here as a child. California on the other hand hasn’t been rainbows and lollipops either- but it is different. Somehow it is different in that I don’t hate California in the way I do Texas. Maybe its palm trees versus hay bales, maybe it’s being able to make my own decisions, or
paying an absurd amount of taxes being a contributing member of the tax paying society that makes me LOVE California.
Either way, I have found myself here again. Where people hang their clothes to dry and there are dogs who roam freely. There are no freshly manicured moms of newborns with their LuLuLemon work out pants and grande-nonfat-soy-mocha-chocha-latte-insert-other-things-here Starbucks drinks perusing the neighborhood. Instead there is an old man across the street in his rocking chair about to yell at his chicken, named Nancy, to stop doing whatever chickens do. There are bunnies hopping around (probably about to be shot if I’m being honest). Then there is me, with my laptop and text books, stretched out heart and dry shampoo laden hair observing what I used to call home.
I’ve brought California with me in a few ways. I went on a 2 mile walk yesterday, I act as if I’ll die if I don’t have water constantly and I’ve not taken my flip flops off once. My own nails are manicured, and while I don’t own LuLuLemon leggings, I have lived in my LuLaRoe leggings this whole trip.
I’ve changed so much the past 5 years. I live for fast pace, I can’t sit still, I can’t even handle the smell of cow poo anymore. What?!?
But then I find myself smiling at the clothes line. I moo-ed back at the cows. The man who wore Wrangler jeans, a button up shirt, boots and a cowboy hat inside Whataburger reminded me of my grandpa. There are sunflowers that grow rapid here alongside of the roads, there is no HOA to demand they be removed. It is slow here, and you can hear the frogs and the crickets sing to you at night.
I’m not sure what all of this means. I love California, but Texas is special. Being here has been an interesting mix of Texafornia; with my mind and heart trying to decipher between a life I lived, and the new life that I created.
I miss my “family” back in California though; my own people, hand selected for their sweet hearts. I miss my job, even though come Tuesday when I am back at my desk sloughing through emails I probably won’t feel that way. I have truly created a life in California. However I am beginning to wonder if growing up in Texas made me who I am in California.