on Home and Leaving

Hi friends! I know I haven't been in this space for a while now. I just couldn't figure out what to write about. Really, what that means is that my life here was going well, because this is a space of processing transition. At least that's the habit I have so far.

I'm preparing to go back to LA soon. 3 weeks. It's weird and crazy and so strange. I spent a year and a half here in Rio. The first nine months were probably the hardest I've ever had. The next nine were so fantastic that it's hard for me to leave now. Someone told me that the more I disliked the culture in the beginning, the more I'd love it in the end. I guess they were right.

But all this transition has gotten me thinking about the word home. I don't like that word, but mostly because I can't tell you where home is or even where it should it be. I've always said there are two types of homes. The one where you currently live (even if it's a hotel for a vacation) and the other one that isn't here but where part of your heart is. Well, I keep leaving my heart all over the world, and I can't quite come to terms with it.

I've noticed in myself that when I tell people I'm going home, I feel like I'm betraying this place that has been home for a year and a half, this place where I learned a new language and became who I am today, this place that made me love it with all that I am after I finally let down my walls. Before coming here, I always divided home between Maui and LA. Maui will always be one of my homes because I grew up there and my parents still live there. But it likely will never be the place I live. LA became home during college almost by accident. When I would study abroad for four months at a time, it became home base because it's just easier (and cheaper) to get to than Maui. I made incredible friends there, found a church community that I love, and fell in love with the specific ways of the city (even though they are frustrating at times as well). Plus, a lot of extended family lives there. LA and Maui, no matter how often I leave them, I know I will always come back.

But Rio, well, it's different. It's too far out of the way to just drop in a for a visit every once in a while. As much as I would like to believe that I will come back and visit, I just don't know. This place will forever hold a piece of my heart, and in that sense I will always consider it home. But it's hard to even think about leaving, because I can't count on the next time I'll be here, and that breaks my heart.