I constantly feel as though I am pulled in two directions. I love New York with this fierce sort of undying love and will soon reach my ten year anniversary of living/working here. It's where I came at seventeen and found my independence. College, relationships, heartbreak, friendship, graduate school, career, love, engagement, marriage--thus far, all of my adult life is planted here.
My roots are planted somewhere else, and whenever I return to them, the life I've created here becomes slightly less clear.
As a child, growing up in New England was magical. Now that the notion of having a baby feels like something that is likely to happen in the not-so-far-off future (God willing!), I can't help but think about what kind of childhood I want to create for my children.
Everyone tells me we don't have to decide these things yet. I know that to be true. But, I also know myself. And sometimes, the mysteries of the future seem just a little bit too mysterious for my liking.
"There are two lasting gifts we can give our children: One is roots. The other is wings."