I'm often ask where I'm from. That's a hard question for me to answer. I was a military brat (still hate that term, by the way) so while I was born in Sumter, South Carolina, I spent barely two years there before moving to The Azores then to Charleston, SC and then Anchorage, Alaska. Rather than giving my whole life history when someone asks that dreaded question, I usually reply "Alaska."
Now I wasn't born there. I didn't even really spend all that many years there. But for me, Alaska was and always will be home. No, my family doesn't live there (with the exception of my dad and stepmom, who will be moving to Oklahoma come September) In fact, the majority of my extended family is within an hours drive of where I live now. But when someone mentions the word home, Anchorage is what I immediately think. It's hard to explain, and I'm sure it makes no sense, but the couple of times that I've been back since moving, as soon as I step off the plane it's as though an instant calm comes over me and I'm back home.
When my mother and I left Alaska in 1996, the plan was to spend the summer in Florida and then move back home. Needless to say this didn't happen. Instead we moved to a small town in Central North Carolina, where I've spent the last 13 years. I never in a million years imagined I'd wind up here. This was where I came to visit my grandma. This is where I spent Christmases and Spring Breaks. There was nothing here but lots of sand spurs, and a bunch of cousins I'd only met once or twice. When my mom suggested we move here, I thought she'd lost her mind.
I had every intention of moving as soon as I graduated high school. I was going to go to college somewhere. Anywhere that wasn't North Carolina. I was going to go back to the way things were. North Carolina was going to be once again the place I went for Christmas and Spring Break. But in the past 13 years something happened. For the first time in my life, I planted roots. I got married. I had children. I became close with quite a few of those cousins that I'd only met once or twice.
While it may take another 13 years for me to be able to call North Carolina home, I know there's a reason why I'm here. There's a reason I didn't pack up and move as soon as I graduated. There's a reason I planted my roots here. And while I'm not exactly sure what those reasons are, I know that at least for now, I'm exactly where I'm suppose to be.
