I’ve been speaking to a friend about this. Bear with me; I’m buzzed.


(But not so buzzed as to not use a semicolon! Or to properly structure the previous sentence!)


I remember sitting on the couch in my friends’ living room. I was sweaty. Exhausted. My hair was frizzy and unbrushed. I wept. She told me I looked the prettiest she had ever seen me.

There’s something to be said about the me that I was when I was in Tel Aviv. It’s not that I was different than I am any other time, exactly. But I was at my best, to be sure. I am certain that I exuded confidence. I know that I offered no apologies for who I was and that I owned every single piece of myself. I love feeling like that. It’s a step down from arrogance, which is a thin line I walk most of the time.

I think that I’m really close to being like that while I’m at home. The problem is that at home there are habits. There are people and stagnancy that prove difficult to shake. When  you fly over 6000 miles you can let all that go. And then what’s left? Just me. And I was satisfied. Unfortunately, I’m back in MA and the habits are here and the relationships and the expectations are here. I’m making wise choices in terms of my person and my self preservation. But let me tell you: it’s exhausting.

6 weeks and $1400. Then I can experience that freedom again. And I make these things happen for myself. Who else will?


Can you tell I’m totes drunk? Not that this post isn’t legitimate. I just dont trust myself to articulate.



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