Sometimes leaving is easier than returning.
Yes, I am well aware that I am a walking cliche.
But it is true.
The last time I came to LA it had been a reunion nearly nine years in the making.
It was a pit stop to a year long detour to Australia.
The longing in my gut for the ocean and the warm air it carries led me to holding California closer to my heart that it deserved.
I grew up on Los Angeles, but I didn’t grow up in any posh suburb. My family lived just under the poverty line. We did not have the luxuries that the LA lifestyle presents, but I was happy filling my pockets with beach glass and bringing home buckets of sand crabs that I was sure would survive the cold shock of bathtub water and the hand fulls of Morton salt.
My dad would stand by my side patiently and do his best to preserve their small lives and to comfort me once the shock of death settled over me.
Not too different than the small sea creatures I brought home, my illusions of the little joys CA carried perished when I reached LAX. What was left upon arrival was the smog of LA traffic and the fast paced lifestyle that is so far removed from my comfort zone.
I left easily the second time around and did not feel an urge to return.
It is interesting that the same thing that led me to LA nine years ago was the same thing that led me back; nannying.
I did not return to South Central.
I came to comfortable linens and down pillows.
To heated pools and cabana boys. To Suburbans and wine tastings.
The shininess of these luxuries wore away quickly.
I found a discomfort in the things that are supposed to give us a sense of comfort.
Upon reflection I realize it was never CA that I spent years longing for.
It was the innocence of childhood.
Of not caring about what I had or didn’t have.
I would rather have that small garage back that I called home than a suite at a fancy hotel if only to remember the warmth that love carries.
Sometimes we have to return to truly understand why we left in the first place.
LA I’ll back soon. I suppose you deserve another chance after all I’m 23 now and I’m already a different me than I was last month.