On My Heart: Home

Monday, November 4, 2013

Home.

As a newlywed and a newly-moved, what does that word mean?

 Deck in our front yard.

I'm thankful to have Jason by my side in all this because it's not easy.
I really know nothing about country life.
I don't know much about being a wife either, since I'm only six weeks in at this job.
There's so much to learn and I feel like I'm failing.
I'm scared I will disappoint Jason somehow, because I don't always have it together.
Honestly? I've never cooked anything more complicated than spaghetti.
I've only made dinner once since being married.
Unpacking has occupied most of my time, and the amount of time unpacking has taken me so far is embarrassing.
And there's still a mess.

I should have it together by now. I feel like I'm failing as a wife because I don't know how to cook or how to do half the things any other woman who lives in the country knows how to do.

I wish I could write this inspirational piece about how "I have always been a certain "different" way and how I used to hate it but now I've come to accept it as being wonderfully, uniquely me", but I haven't come to that point.
I have struggles like anyone else, but mine link closely to my ability to cope in a new environment where I know no one and know nothing.
So this move has been hard.
And I've been taking it out on myself.
I blame myself more than I should for not knowing how to cook, not being interested in hunting in a family full of hunters, all the way down to not knowing how to sing, even though singing has nothing to do at all with being a housewife. I've been blaming myself for seemingly every inability and talent that I do not have that it's overshadowed my ability to see what talents I do have.

A garden shed in our backyard.

Jason and I are planning a trip home this week and I have been wrestling with my feelings about it for weeks now. It'll be our first time back since moving to Minnesota two weeks after our honeymoon.
The first time in two months that I'll have seen my family.

This will be the first time I've spent the night at my parent's house since getting married--the first time since moving out on my own in February of this year...it's going to be different.A big part of me just wants to stay here and not even go back because I know things will have changed so much.

As a compulsive-crier as Steve Martin walks his daughter down the aisle in Father of the Bride, I really don't want to deal with any emotions or strangeness that will come from going home for the first time.

As much as here feels like home now, there are days where I long to go running back because I don't always know how to handle the changes that come from moving over 2000 miles away from everything familiar and leaving my family behind in the process.

I feel stuck in a limbo because there are moments where I neither want to be here nor there.
There are days I am constantly pacing back and forth in the confines of my mind wishing I could go home to avoid the pressure of the change here, but at the same exact time wishing to not go home because I don't know if I can handle what's changed there since I got married either.

I guess if I went halfway between home and here that plants me somewhere in the middle, which according to Google Maps is somewhere along the highway in the Mountains of Southern Montana.
Which I happen to remember on the drive up here was littered with roadkill.
So I don't exactly want to be there, either.

Wood siding on a garden shed in our backyard.

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