Something Else to Cry About

Mom, you should stop reading now. I'm totally not kidding.

The weirdest thing happened when I was leaving Chattanooga for my trip a couple of weeks ago.

I cried.

I can’t say that’s ever happened before. It was the strangest sensation. The tears made absolutely no sense to me. And yet, they fell. I was so sad to leave Chattanooga that I cried. I was as stunned as you are.

I’d like to think that I was hormonal. But, I wasn’t. I’d like to think that I was crying solely because I was leaving the handsome hubby for 10 days. But, while he was certainly part of why I cried, we’ve been apart a LOT longer than that and he wasn’t going to be at home during some of my trip anyway. After much contemplation, I think I cried because I was going to miss Chattanooga and my life here.


The entire morning before I took off I couldn’t shake this bizarre feeling. I wasn’t 100% excited about leaving. With a trip to NYC and a family wedding on the horizon I was 99% excited, don’t get me wrong. But, where in the heck was that other 1% coming from? It shocked me then and continues to surprise me now. Turns out I'm growing actual legitimate emotional roots in Chattanooga despite all my best efforts. And while any normal human being would be excited and relieved that this is finally happening, I am not.

If I'm growing roots here that means I now have two homes. In my experience that is neither a purely positive nor entirely pleasant reality. To a fiercely loyal to a fault person like me, two homes create a ton of conflict. Having two homes means I experience division and separation constantly. If I'm here, I'm not there. If I'm there, I'm not here. Lose. Lose. Don’t understand? Let me clarify. On Sunday I couldn’t help but feel like I was cheating on my friends in St. Louis by not being 100% excited to come there. After all, my St. Louis relationships have existed longer and run much deeper. My friends and family there know ALL of me and love me anyway. Feeling loyalty somewhere else doesn’t make sense, right? Well, except at the very same time, I began to feel this gnawing tug like I was abandoning my Chattanooga life by being excited to leave. With things finally starting to feel “normal” and “comfortable” here why would I want to escape? Chattanooga is my present.  Feeling loyalty to my past means I'm not moving forward.

Are you beginning to see why having two homes terrifies me?

And, before you say it, all that crap about two homes means there are “more people to love you” doesn’t ring any truer now than it did when my parents started re-marrying. Yes, that’s right. I'm a child of divorced parents. Which I'm sure all you arm chair psychoanalysts had already figured out. It doesn’t take a PHD to see that I'm dealing with that baggage a.gain.

So, who wants to throw in a few bucks toward my therapist’s bill this month?