I’m literally never going this long without writing a blog post ever again.

But I’m coming back with some big thoughts, big words, and big feelings… as usual. So I’m home for the summer… let’s get right into it.

Living with my parents after living away from them has to be one of the more challenging things I’ve done for the last two summers.

Every year that I’m away from my parents, I learn more about myself and the world around me.

I begin to realize that not all of the things I’ve been taught are true or the way that I’ve been previously dealt with isn’t the only way to be treated (applying to both negative and positive).

I learn that there are other ways to live and other ways to grow.

And as a person grows into someone new at each year’s end, it’s hard to go back to a place that still sees you as one version of yourself, just with “new add-ons,” rather than a dynamic whole.

It’s also hard to realize that your parents are immensely imperfect human beings. I begin to realize more and more that my parents don’t always make the smartest decisions, they don’t always say the right things, they don’t always say the nicest things, they don’t think the same way I do, and they haven’t gone through life the same way I have either.

It’s weird to realize that your parents were once like you, a kid figuring out their way in life. They came to conclusions about the world that you didn’t, and you came to conclusions about the world that they didn’t. It’s also weird to realize that they are still that kid figuring out their way.

It’s hard for me sometimes to remember this and to have empathy that my parents have never been at this stage of life either. They’ve never done this before. They just happened to have birthed another human being who grew up to have her own thoughts and opinions that she has no problem expressing. Yeah, that’s weird, and sometimes it’s hard for both of us. And yes, I need to remember this more often.

All that to say, living in my childhood bedroom, in my hometown, with my parents again, as someone who grew so much once she was able to leave it, is always a hard thing. There’s a sense of both comfort and discomfort within it.

And yet, I’m learning to find what God is teaching me within the discomfort.

What can I lose?

Where can I be broken and built back up?

Where can I be humbled?

What can I be taught?

Who can I serve?

What can I still learn from the faces and walls that are no longer the only thing I know… but have welcomed me back?

Thanks for reading :))