“I don’t deal well with constant negatives. I’m one of those people that always sees the good in situations even though most go straight to the negative. Case in point–Mexico, Missouri, my hometown. I know it ain’t shit to most, but there are reasons I came back here. Think I’m gonna blog about it.” – Porsha A. Williams, on #HOME.
I love my hometown.
Ask me that 5 years ago, and I would’ve been ashamed to say it. Ask me that now, and I’m nothing more than ‘floatingly’ happy. Reason being, I came home to start life anew — and that’s exactly what I did.
Constant negatives are something I left behind when I came home. The negative of lacking ‘play money$$$;’ the negative of not seeing my parents and raising my son almost alone and stressing to the point of finding myself constantly sick as a dog, over a job that would never see me at a spot where I could live my life in comfort without having to break my back. I left that shit behind to put my focus on my health, my son, and my sanity via doing something I actually enjoyed. And after the first few years — I found that — at home of all places.
Fast-forward to now. I never thought I’d say this, but I took offense today. I took offense to a friend hating on my town. Hating on it for it’s lack of ‘pretty people.’
…*sighs heavily* If pretty people is all you’re looking for, then you’re shorting yourself in a way that is heinous and wrong. Reason being — there’s so much more to life than the looks of a possible significant other. There’s so much more to life than that. There’s so much more to my town; while the people in it make it, there’s just much more.
But it wasn’t so much just that commentary. It was the feeling and vibe that my town wasn’t worth shit, simply because of the view. Be it the people, the town itself, or the places in it — it wasn’t worth anything.
I took major offense to that; not at first but after the repeated and constant commentary that it lacked this or that. It got me to thinking; what really mattered, when it came to my hometown was it’s history and it’s future and the part I’ll play in that.
It also got me to thinking; does it really matter where we live? When it comes down to it, if we don’t take advantage or grasp the opportunities laid out for us — if instead, we just sit and wait for someone to come and drop into our laps what it is we need, vs. get to work on making the changes necessary to make what you want come to you? I could live in Bali, NYC, or Peru…wouldn’t matter — if I don’t take the steps I need to grasp what it is I want, it might as well be hell on earth…right?
And so I thought again, on my hometown and what made it the place that I have decided to spend the rest of my ‘middle life.’
Yes, middle life, because that’s what I consider ages 30-60yrs old.
I thought about the RICH history of this place, and how I could spend hours of my life, day after day for the next 30yrs in the dusty library of my hometown — researching and documenting that history as only I could. I then got to thinking about the people in the town; those I know, those I remember, and those I’ve yet to meet.
Nowhere that I’ve lived, has or will ever have the level of friendliness that pure strangers have here. Here, I’ve met more people in the past 4yrs than I had in the past 15yrs I spent in Columbia, Missouri. And that’s saying something.
I’ve never had more people simply nod in passing, or even go so far as to say hello as I have here. Not in my time in Columbia; not in my time in Boston nor in my travels around this fine country. The charm of people being polite never gets old for me.
Then I got to thinking about my son, and how I love having him close to his grandparents. I had the misfortune of only getting to know one grandparent vs. both sets. And while I loved my granny with all my being, I knew that it was imperative my son have both his Mimi and PawPaw in his life. He needed the love & life lessons that only they could provide. He needed the care that only they could give — especially in my down times, due to my Mitochondrial Disease. He also needed the care and concern of the Mexico Public school system, vs. being a number like he would’ve been in the Columbia Public School system. Lastly, he needed to know who his family was — as he will be the only child I am able to bear to the world.
…but then, I finally got to thinking about life and death all around — and what living in this smalltown provided best of all.
Peace. Peace of mind, peace to go forward knowing that when I left this earth, my son would always ever know that no matter where he went — he’d have a community that would remember him, welcome him and embrace him if & when he returned. Because I promise you, 4 out of 5 people always return. This place is, quite frankly, HOME. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with returning to a place of comfort, kindness and love.
This is why I love my hometown. This is why I’ll defend it to any f**ker that feels the need to tear it down. Despite it’s shortcomings, unlike any other place it’ll never not feel like home. I’ll never feel like a tourist here — unlike the many, MANY places I’ve been throughout the world throughout my life. And that’s saying something.
Until we meet again, Brightest Blessings!