Home.

For years now, I've talked with my husband about how we will "move back to Texas once we have kids."  He has been in agreement; he has spent his life in Oklahoma and knows that my family is important to me.  Now, "once we have kids" is here.  It has been here for ten months, and we're still in Norman with no plans to move anytime soon.  Until very recently, I was livid about this.

I hated Norman when I first moved here for school.  I hated the cracked sidewalks that I would trip over on my 5:00 a.m. runs.  I hated the old homes and the lack of zoning regulations.  I hated the hipsters, I hated the rich folks on the west side of the highway, and I hated basically anyone who wasn't just like me.  As time has passed, Norman's quirks have become endearing to me.  The older homes here have character (we live in one!), and getting away from suburbia is a pleasant change.  I have come to love the diversity of Normanites and now realize that spending time with people who are not just like me is good for my soul.  I don't love the sidewalks any more than I did eight years ago, but mostly I just don't love running at 5 a.m.  (That would be true anywhere.)  Still, though, I didn't think I would stay here this long. When I came to OU, I planned to get my degree and get out of Dodge as quickly as possible.  Then I met Andrew in August 2006, when I was 18, and everything changed.

I always want to have someone to blame when things don't go my way.  The main reason why we are still here is because Andrew has a great job that he loves.  While that is the primary reason, however, it isn't the only one.  I made the decision to stay here, too.  I made that decision when I married Andrew, and I continue to make it over and over again.  Just last week, I committed to a teaching contract for another school year.  I can't blame that one on my husband.    

From time to time, I get a bad case of "The Grass is Always Greener" Syndrome.  Andrew and I both love Peru and have discussed the possibility of moving there for 2-4 years.  For now, that possibility is off the table (which isn't to say, necessarily, that it will never happen).  And for now, the possibility of moving back to Texas is also not up for discussion.  I've harbored so much bitterness toward Andrew about both of those situations.  In my mind, life would be better if I got to speak Spanish every day and work with the wonderful Peruvians and Americans that we've met during our trips.  Everything would somehow be alright if I got to see my family more often and if I got to go out with my best college friends who relocated to Dallas/Fort Worth after graduation.  But the thing is, your heart follows you wherever you go.  Flower Mound, Texas might have perfect running trails, but eventually, I would get bored of the many houses that look exactly the same.  The excitement of living in Peru would undoubtedly wear off, leaving me lonely and missing American culture.  Even the greenest grass will, one day, turn brown.        

Lately, I've been so wrapped up in thinking about what might have been that I've been completely missing out on living my life.  And it really is a good life here.  It has only been within the last few weeks that I've been able to look around and realize how very blessed I am, in this very place that I've been so anxious to leave.  When I used to dream about the future, it looked nothing like the reality that I'm living.  Now I'm realizing that my dreams are not being crushed like I thought they were; I'm simply getting new opportunities.  I'm the only one who gets to live this life, and while it is not at all what I expected, it is good.  This place is home.