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I HATE to post a video AND a lyrics sheet (no really…I hate to do it), especially given that I think it is beyond well established at this point that I am a Nine Inch Nails “fangirl” (hate that term, too). But I sort of have to for this post to even begin to make sense (which it will, just barely). Also, either I’m just inept or the video posting capabilities on Blogger are off-the-charts on the suck-o-meter. Apologies all around.

So, the theme of this post is “home” because the idea of where home is has been in a state of constant evolution for the past couple of years – for me, at least. And because, well, June 12th seems as good a day as any to go yapping about it! So, here goes.

Two years ago today, my husband and I were at a fabulous concert in Charlotte, watching Nine Inch Nails at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater. Yes, it was super hot outside, AND we got rained on, thundered on, risked getting struck by lightning – yet we were just pleased as punch to be there. We were even more thrilled with our spots – right in front of Trent Reznor, basically half a body back from the rail. It was amazing. Robin Finck waved at me (or was it that guy behind me…whatever, who cares). It was awesome. And they opened the show with a song that I really think said it all for where I was at that point in my life.

By that time, Jonathan and I had been married for just over three years. I was basically just over eight months through the recovery process from what can only be described as an eating disorder and/or a really serious issue with body image and controlling every bit of minutae of such a stupid and irrelevant part of my life. At the same time, I’d finally reached a point where I no longer thought of my own hometown as “home.” Suddenly, things were falling into place. Greenville was my home. Jonathan was my home. I was at home in my own skin, for the first time in maybe 20 years (because – yes, it’s true – I was far too aware of myself when I should’ve still been a carefree little girl). As I watched the concert begin with Robin Finck’s piercing note on the guitar, ringing out across a field of thousands of sweaty people (and probably a few drunk ones, I’d imagine), I felt a really corny, embarrassing sense of peace.

It was just nice to be at home again.

It was something that I hadn’t really felt since June 12th of 2006, when I spent my very last night under the roof of 140 Windmeadows Dr. in my hometown. The very last time that I was living in my parents’ house. On the morning of the 13th, Jonathan and I closed up the big metal door on the back of a U-Haul for the last time and headed off for Greenville. We had a one bedroom apartment full of dreams and financed furniture waiting for us! I remember my dad saying that I needed to listen to that country song about “You’re gonna miss this,” where the girl is constantly getting past herself in her propensity to plan and over-plan for the future.

I really can’t explain why I was so afraid of never being able to move “home” to Conway. I spent basically my entire life, up until I got married and moved away, whining about how bad that place sucks. And for me, it did – I’m not making a broad statement on the place as a whole, but for me, it was pretty miserable. I guess I was really afraid of being removed from the family that I’ve always been around. I was afraid I’d miss out on things. I was afraid of having to step back and actually build a life for myself with the man I’d chosen (and happily so) and risk something – not the least of which was to risk not having control over every little thing. It was really stupid, believe me…I get that. I can’t explain why something that couples do every single day – moving to a different town – was such a big fuzzy freakin’ deal for me. But thankfully I got past it and grew to love the Upstate so much that I really can’t imagine ever wanting to move back to my hometown.

Whatever the case, I am so happy that I find myself today, a little wiser, boatloads happier, a mother, a better wife. Maybe that’s what “home” is all about. My home is wherever my husband and son are, wherever I can find a little peace, wherever there’s a place to run and a place to cook. It feels good to be here.

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