I guess it was a bit of a cliffhanger when I wrote such a negative post about coming home. I was definitely experience after travel depression. I have now been in my childhood town for a few weeks and as expected things have been much better.
I haven’t lived here for over a decade but I always find staying with my family to be quite grounding. No one expects me anything of me, they don’t want me to move home, they just want me to be happy. And my time here always leaves me feeling rejuvenated, knowing I have such a great family who believes in me.
At first I thought I would be ambitious and travel throughout my province and discover new things. But I wasn’t ready for that.
I didn’t have the heart for it.
So instead I have been doing absolutely nothing. Well I guess more than nothing.
I’m embracing routine.
I have joined a gym, started reading again, am cooking all the meals in my family and took on a 30-day meatless challenge. I enjoy not wearing flip flops in the shower, having a bed without a bunk above me, taking our dog for a walk.
Yesterday I went out berry picking with my family. First we went to a raspberry patch where I was able to speak to the foreman from Mexico in Spanish (and also had a townie mistake me for being Mexican) and then went over to a blueberry u-pick where they encourage you to leave with a blue tongue.
It’s just simple, little things that are making me happy.
Today we’re celebrating my mother’s birthday with afternoon patio cocktails. It’s nice to be home.
I don’t know how I really feel about Toronto. With some distance it feels less raw but still confusing. I have decided to let it go and just embrace time at home. And while I know I don’t belong here, it still feels like home.
Soon I’ll be ready to travel again. And I better be because I just booked a one-way flight to London!