Sunday, August 8th, 2010...9:14 pm

On the Eve of My Journey

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When I moved to Boston twelve years ago, I was a child.  Literally.  I was seventeen and too dumb to realize how scared I was.  Once I figured it out, I had a crippling case of homesickness that lasted almost a year.  I almost gave up several times, and there’s almost nothing in my life I’m more grateful for than that I decided to see it through.

As I sit in anticipation of my next move to Austin, it’s strangely satisfying to think that I’m going to be as homesick for this place as I was for Ann Arbor when I left.  People keep asking me if I’m excited, and the honest answer is no.  I’m also not dreading the move, but there’s no part of me that’s supremely eager to get down to Texas.  Instead I have the strange mix of anxiety, self doubt, reflectiveness, and determination that I’ve always felt just before experiencing something awesomely life-changing.  Of all the things I’ve learned in Boston–how to love, what I’m meant to do with my life, what faith means–it’s that knowledge that the risk is worth it that I’m most grateful for right now.

I may have grown up in Ann Arbor, but I became an adult in Boston.  Beantown, I will miss you.

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