Three Years in #NOLA.

Fat Tuesday 2015 in the French Quarter

Three years ago I took the plunge and moved back to NOLA. A city I grew up in but left me feeling like an imposter at times when I told people NOLA was home. I had heard people say that New Orleans ran through your blood like DNA - it became a part of you - but that never quite happened for me. I acted like it mattered more than it did.  For me, it was just a place where I was raised and had family. A city with a soul but not my soul.

When I attempt to unpack that, I wonder if it's because the house where I grew up was outside the city in Old Metairie (something friends here remind me of often when I say I grew up in New Orleans), or whether it's because of my high school years here in the city, a time in my life I'd never wish to return to. The labels, the boxes, the lack of finding community. I found my identity and grew to be comfortable in my own skin long after I left New Orleans and lived chapters in Memphis, Athens, and St. Louis. I enjoyed visiting my family over holidays and breaks but always looked forward to getting back to my life. Something about returning home felt like I was being forced back into a box I fought hard to break out of. I'm not sure why I felt that way but running into people in town that I knew growing up sometimes made me feel small. Less sure of myself. And I didn't like that feeling.

But I returned. For a job opportunity. For family. And I couldn't have imagined what the next three years would have in store for me. The birth of my niece, the deaths of two grandparents, the relocation of my grandmothers to New Orleans, condo ownership, love, loss, career promotion, a nephew on the horizon and a lot of learning and growing up. I remember the long drive from St. Louis to New Orleans at the end of January 2013 - Mardi Gras in my midst - and feeling so fragile. I was exhausted from several days of goodbyes and tears. Had I made the right decision coming back? Would I be as happy in NOLA as I had been in St. Louis? Was I making a mistake? I knew only time would tell but my gut was unsettled. I was unsettled. I was 30 years old living at home (for the moment) starting over needing to meet new people and find new friend groups and it all seemed so daunting. Three years ago.

As my fourth Mardi Gras back in the city is upon me and I look forward to dancing in the streets, screaming "HEY!!!!!" as the floats pass me by with a drink in hand, feasting on way more king cake than is healthy and necessary surrounded by great friends who have become my extended family here in the Crescent City, I'm giving thanks that I took that plunge and returned. It's not lost on me how much I've gained in these last three years. And NOLA? Well it's become more than just a place to me. As Chris Rose once said, "New Orleans is a siren calling us home."

It's good to be home.