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A year ago today

A year ago today, I left from my first large-scale kinky convention, TESfest, and dove right into a monthlong roadtrip cross-country with two guys – neither of whom I knew particularly well.  It was everything I could have hoped for, and in spite of the risks I was taking in heading out with no specific plan in mind, I found I was richly rewarded with experiences, memories, and new friends.

I was thinking about that journey this past weekend, over Independence Day, thinking how well that holiday melded with my decision to strike out on my own, in pursuit of my own form of happiness.  To stake my own claim for personal and sexual independence.  I had finally finished unpacking my final box that day, one full of tiny, random things I didn’t know what to do with.  It felt wonderful to finish organizing all of those bits and pieces, and, once done, I was struck by the sense of finally being at home.  More so than just physically, I also felt settled into my own skin.  The fact that I am making thoughtful choices about where my belongings are placed and organized in my room may seem trivial, but it’s one of the few times I’ve really felt like I’ve owned a piece of personal space.

All throughout my childhood I was constantly reminded of my mother’s ownership over the spaces I occupied.  Whether it was a room not clean enough for her standards, or the clothes she bought for me left scattered around the house, I never really felt territorial; or, more precisely, that I had any right to be territorial.  And when I was in school, my brief time in each dorm room never inspired me to really personalize it as others did.  I never wanted to become fully invested in a space I would inevitably have to leave, only to move to another, similar room, each year.

That is not to say I wasn’t envious of my peers who completely decked out their room and fully owned that space as uniquely theirs: of being able to walk into that room and instantly recognizing whose it is.  I’m not sure what held me back: what ratio of laziness to minimalism – and not a little lack of confidence – stayed me from letting much of my personality show in each space I occupied.

But now, in my San Francisco apartment, I think I’m finally okay with letting some of myself show, of leaving a mark that says, “Yes, I live here, and this space is uniquely mine.”

I was not looking for any of this when I started driving out of New England.  But I do believe that a lot of what has happened since I left happened because it needed to.  Because some things can only fully develop when you leave the nest for good.

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  1. July 9, 2010 at 11:55 am

    I’ve really got to thank you, Nellodee. I’ve been following your blog for some 6 months or so now and you’ve really helped me to understand some things about myself. I won’t go into detail right here, I just wanted you to know that I love your writing and I’m always eager to hear more of your stories. Please don’t ever stop!

    Hana xx

    • July 10, 2010 at 12:13 am

      You’re quite welcome! I’m flattered that you were able to take something away from my ramblings. Thanks for reading and commenting!

      Cheers,
      nell

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