Monday 2: Home

It’s hard to shake the longing I have of wanting to go home. The problem is, I haven’t been at home since I was 11 and my family still lived on a (sort of) farm in upstate New York. Since the day my mother and I left that place, I’ve lived with the feeling of not belonging. Wherever I land, there’s always sense of otherness.

Starting in middle school, it was hard not to feel that way. My family was split between downstate New York and upstate New York. In upstate New York, they’re quick to point out that there is a lot more to the state than “The City", and rightfully so. As far as I can tell, anyone who grew up below Albany is a NOT an upstate New Yorker.

In downstate New York, your’e considered upstate New York if you live anywhere above the Bronx. To confuse things further, if you live above the Bronx but below Poughkeepsie, your family probably moved to that location from the Bronx. Despite having moved when you were 4, you maintain a fierce loyalty to the Bronx and calling your Nonna's sauce, "gravy". This is partly why the people above Poughkeepsie find you so annoying . Please stop. So far I haven't seen any Prego Spaghetti Gravy in the supermarket. Ever. 

(I'm kidding, please refrain from leaving angry gravy/sauce comments.)

It always makes me sad to see hear someone from upstate make fun of people from downstate and vice versa. I have loyalty to and loved ones in both locations. Given my place in both parts of New York, this contempt you have for one another is not pleasant. Its like having divorced parents who hate each other and can't wait to say something shitty once the other is out of ear shot. 

In my quest to find home, I moved to Connecticut. Then I moved to New Hampshire, followed by Massachusetts, then New Hampshire again, then Maine, and now, back to Massachusetts. You know what? I still haven’t found my home. I was close in those last two locations, but circumstances had us moving as soon as I started settling in. 

It’s a lovely community we live in now, but it just isn’t ours. For us, it's turning out to be a horrible… I mean, an awkward fit. I miss independent bookstores and artists and farmers and antique shops and fisherman and people being able to tell the difference between a fox and a coyote. 

I despise the daily cacophony of leaf blowers and commercial mowers that comes with the warmer weather and the undying need for a perfectly coifed yard. And I swear, if I see one more family picture taken on the beach in coordinating ensembles, I might light my own hair on fire.

I miss the individualism and acceptance that comes with the small towns of upstate New York, New Hampshire and Maine. I don’t want to wear a pastel Vineyard Vines uniform. I don't want to drive a bus length black SUV or stick anything to my vehicle that signals where it is that I vacation in summer and ski all winter. 

G dared to wear a pair of dark green high-waisted corduroy pants to school at Christmas time and was called a whore. For her that's been a running theme for about a year now. I mean… seriously? Middle school can be tough anywhere, I think we can all remember a horror story or ten, but come on. In this place where I am right now, it often feels like conformity is encouraged. Be careful what you say, do, wear, write… who you befriend. Once, upon learning I was writing a memoir, a local woman asked me if I wasn’t afraid what the people in town would think if they read my work? Wasn’t I afraid that people might treat my children poorly?

That’s no way to live.

In the end, and with lots of therapy, I understand that my wanting to go home has less to do with where I'm presently living and everything to do with something broken inside of me. When things go wrong or are beyond my control, I want to go back home and that place just doesn't exist. It never really did.

All I need to do is remind myself of the very good friendships I have built in each place we have landed. In my endless search for home, I have accumulated a tenacious crowd of friends who are patient, generous, fun-loving, smart, and kind. I'll take that.