Ode to Tacoma

When we first met, I was really hesitant to commit. You were new. You were scary. I wasn't over my last relationship; Bellingham was still flirting with me and I thought I might want to get back together. But I jumped in with you, inwardly kicking and screaming, and I know we had a rocky start. You were ready to build a life, and I just couldn't go there. Not yet. I always had my eyes elsewhere, wondering what it would be like to venture back to what was comfortable. I wanted to dump you. I wanted to dump you HARD. Drive away and never look back and yell, "It's NOT me, it's YOU!" on my way out. 

But you waited. So patiently. So patiently and gently and lovingly. And once I realized my fears were all in my head, and I could let go of my hesitations and go all-in, we entered into one of the greatest love affairs this life has ever seen. Tacoma, you loved me so well. You loved me when I didn't love you. You gave me some of the best people and best relationships I've ever been blessed to have. You provided sunshine on the cloudiest days (and in the literal sense, plenty of clouds on even the sunniest days...) 

I am a different me today than I was when our union began, and I like this me a lot better. You changed me. You made me grow. You helped me blossom. You gave me a soft place to land when life's first real adult struggles threatened to knock me down. And there will never be enough words to do you justice. I don't even know how to try. 

As I sit here on this rainy Tuesday, salty tear streaks not quite dry from the last of my impossible goodbyes with your beautiful inhabitants, my friends, my family, all I can think is THANK YOU. Thank you for your love. Thank you for being so good to me. Thank you for being my home. This isn't goodbye forever. I'll be back often. Consider this the start of our long-distance relationship. 

I'll always love you. And as I drive away now, please know:

... it's not you. It's me. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mw-PIxB52Kg

With love and gratitude,

Andie.

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the Fall.

Hey, did you know I have a blog? Oh you didn't remember? Yeah, me neither. I'm so good at this (... yikes). BUT! Here I am. I haven't given up completely. So thanks for coming back with me. Speaking of coming back: I have a lot of blog-able thoughts swimming in my head today related to and inspired by this topic. Coming back. Returning. A new path leading me home.

I've called Western Washington (more specifically, Bellingham and Tacoma) "home" for a little over 8 years. WHAT?! Eight. Eight years. Considering those years started when I was only 18 years old, this fact feels pretty dang significant. It's my entire adult life. The only place I've built a professional career. The only place I've had to find my own mechanics... doctors... nail technicians (some necessities are more important than others... I'm not saying which is which). The only territory I've had to navigate all on my own, in my very own car, without mommy and daddy to guide my every step. Doing life as a grown-up. Western Washington has done me a lot of favors. And given me priceless gifts, and taught me invaluable lessons. This region's TLC for me seems to know no bounds.
But, just as Summer's long, sunny days fade into crisp and blustery Fall, so the seasons of my life have, and will, and are about to change.
I am blessed beyond measure to have made a home on both sides of this breathtakingly beautiful state. And while the West has been real good to me, the East is calling me back. I miss my family! I miss snow! I miss the beautiful streets, parks, sights, and sounds of my childhood! I want to sing with my mom and sister and stargaze with my dad. I want to take walks down the road where I learned to ride my bike. I want to snuggle up with a warm beverage and the same blanket that's been on the back of my parents' couch for as long as I can remember. And I want to build a life and find mechanics and learn what it means to be an adult in a place I've only known as a child. I am delighted, devastated, thrilled, and terrified. And one million other emotions. But the feeling that rises above the rest, that eases my anxious mind in moments of fear and doubt, is an absolute, 100% certainty that I'm just where I should be. I'm taking a leap of faith with very little clarity as to how the next few years will look. And normally that just does NOT fly with me. But it feels different this time. This is a leap worth taking. And for me, it's rare for confidence to defeat caution. So I'm trusting myself and just DOING THE DAMN THING. If there's one thing that continues to slap me in the face in adulthood, it's the fact that I won't, and can't, and shouldn't always know what's coming next. But there is one thing I know for sure:
... look out Spokane.Ready or not, here I come.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

– Terry Pratchett
Thanks in advance for your love and support.I'll try to keep you posted along the way.
Today's (and this week's, and this month's, and maybe every day forever) jam: "Hello" by Adele
Happy Fall, y'all.
Love,Andie