May Experience Turbulence

Coming home has me a bit flustered: confused, unsure, overwhelmed, questioning. Being back in New Orleans last week, I was met with a lot of mixed emotions. My time there felt more difficult than I had anticipated. There were days that I felt completely at home, welcomed and embraced and other days I felt disconnected and distant. It’s hard to accept how much had changed in the six months I was away. Friends have moved; relationships have ended and begun; jobs have been lost. I no longer have a permanent address and my dog has settled in nicely to his new routine with his auntie Jennifer. I had such anticipation of returning to New Orleans and it just wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the same. Possibly it stems from the initial rationalization that I would only be away for three months…I mean, how much could possibly change in three months? It was temporary. It was a jaunt back to a continent I love. It was a pause in time away from the city I had grown to call home. But three months became six, and my life changed, and the lives of my friends and family changed…and suddenly all that felt temporary had hints of permanence.

There were moments of absolute contentment and familiarity: catching up with old friends, seeing my favorite brass band, stopping by the neighborhood coffee shop, eating po'boys and southern breakfasts, reconnecting with the city as I strolled alone through the Marigny and the French Quarter. But as the days passed, I was flustered with not being able to accomplish and see as many people as I wanted. I felt rushed. I realized that moving back was potentially not a sure thing as I had assumed last summer. I am in the final interviewing stages for a job in Burundi. I am midway through the process for an international fellowship…and jobs in NOLA just aren’t knocking down my door. My departure on Tuesday morning was bittersweet in the sense that I had no idea when I’d be back. Mardi Gras flights have been bought, but the Burundi gig could begin as early as mid-January. So, in a weird way, my departure from New Orleans kind of felt like a premature breakup. I’m simply not ready. There’s been no closure. I haven’t even moved out my stuff. I can’t yet close that chapter of my life, but I know myself well enough that if I get offered this job in Burundi, I’ll take it. I’m leaving behind great friends, an intoxicating city, a piece of me. It’s a lot to wrap my head around.

And then there’s Philly—my family; my nieces; my other home. My sister’s girls are now 3 and a half, 21 months, and 3 months. They are such a joy to be around. It’s been such a blessing having time with them to bond and connect and get to know one another. Ella is at that perfectly sweet age where everything she says is just so honest and genuine. She loves her Aunt Aimee. We do all sorts of fun things together. She says things out of the blue like, “Aimee, I love you so much,” or “I don’t want you to go back to Africa,” or “I have so much fun playing with you.” And I have to wonder if I can allow myself to be one of those aunts who only comes home once a year at the hectic holidays—if I can really detach from them and not be part of their lives on a consistent basis. It’s hard. And my parents are getting older, and my brother got married a year ago and will soon have a family of his own. It seems the questions become more complicated and the choices more complex as I get older. I know my tendency is to over-think, overanalyze, and tolerate the mental gymnastics at times of serious transition and choice. But I also need to remember that any choice can be temporary, and that life is simply a series of choices that lead one to the next choice. All I can do is believe in myself and appreciate the privilege I have and the opportunities I’ve been given in my life. Any choice will further my path, my growth, the woman I’m becoming. So, I’m trying to remain present, positive, and allow myself this time to explore who I am and what I want from my life. We’ll see what decisions stem from it in the next few weeks. Stay tuned…