Well, I just read something I wrote in June of 2015. It is now December 1 of 2016.
Let's recap.

Again, I want no one to see this other than myself. (But of course this is public huh).

June of 2015 I had just moved out for the first time. Not only moved out, but away. 1000+ miles actually. From Atlanta GA to Austin TX. And man was I ready. Or so I thought. In reality, more of hindsight I guess, I wasn't mentally ready yet. I wasn't capable of processing the emotions that go along with such a great amount of change. But truthfully I don't believe anyone should be ready that way. That's what makes it a learning experience. My post was of me lamenting all the change that came with what seemed to be abandoning comfort. Family, friends, job... life as I knew it. Uncertainty clouded the possibility of progress and I became upset. More doubtful than anything.

SINCE THEN, I have worked all over the country and visited almost all of the 50 states. Shortly after that post (one moth exactly), I became a flight attendant for Southwest Airlines. I immediately moved to Oakland, California for a month. As horrible of a city as I believe that was, I felt none of the apprehension that accompanied my first move to Austin. Hot damn was that crazy. It was a 180. I was meeting new people every day and nothing EVER stayed the same. Life became a constant state of change... and I thrived on it. A month after that I moved to Dallas, Texas. Another place I am not fond of. But again I made the most of it; a point I made in my previous post. Then I bounced around Texas and eventually the job became a burden to me. I could travel anywhere at any time to visit family and friends, something I had wanted so bad but could not afford just a year before. But now I could only see them for days at a time and at infrequent intervals. I could go and see the massive changes in their lives that I was not a part of and then just leave until the next time when I did it all over again. It became sad. I couldn't move back to Atlanta and keep the job. That was it. I was done.

I moved back home in February of 2016. But that only lasted a month. I took another job and was promoted, requiring yet another move to Austin, TX. This time, the traveling to visit family was no longer a luxury I could say that I had. But it was okay. I made it work for a few months until my longest running friend and closest confidant hung me out to dry; leaving me effectively homeless unless I made a change in 3 days time.

Atlanta it was. This time, I knew the value of home. Of family. Of lifelong relationships. Which ones to nurture and hold on to and which ones to throw to the wind. This time, I was planting my home where I knew I would never want to uproot it again. And thus, I began the current stage of life, building a new home where the old one once stood.

By that I mean that things were not the same as I had left them in 2015. My childhood home was gone, many friends had left the state, and I was going to change jobs yet again. Now I can say honestly and humbly that I am a man blessed by God in unfathomable ways for reasons I may very well never know. I was encouraged to try out for a fire department north of my new home. I did, I made it, and that's where I stand now. In the span of 1 year, life went from one extreme to the next and I feel as if I hit all the major points along the way. Some people spend a lifetime figuring out where to plant their home and how to do so. I was shown the way in 1 short year.

I had a conversation the other day with a new friend who had just moved out for her first time. She explained a rather unique and tragic scenario that ultimately drove her decision to move out. Not just out, but away. 1000+ miles. She explained the emotional hardships the first month brought on, followed by the eventual and gradual settling into a new way of life. It brought me full circle.

I am ever so thankful to a God who was patient, caring, and always 10 steps ahead of me. I am thankful for home. Having a home I wish to stay at and build upon. Making a life that will forever change, but always stay true to being called home.

You see, the point here is that the June 2015 post was missing something. And that thing was confidence. If you're unsure of yourself, finding yourself, of just plain scared, you are going to feel like the world is crashing down around you. And I know many young people who move out for the first time feel this way. It's one hell of a great thing too. Nothing in life quite molds and shapes you like experience. And experience can be, as I so wonderfully put it almost 2 years ago, "one helluva Bitch."

As for this friend, I can only wonder what the story will be. And to be selfish for a minute, I hope it's as beautiful as I feel mine has become. I no longer always want, but am permanently greatful for all.

Home is where you plant your feet. Where you make your stay, or if it suites your story; your stand.