Calling Home

I reached for my phone and thought about calling home.

Just having a conversation with my mom can put my perspective in check. I don’t talk to her nearly enough since I moved 3 hours away. Life gets in the way or, well, more like excuses.

I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, watched the sunlight dance along through shadows on the wall. It had been one of those weeks. Those weeks where you take deep breaths, often and plenty.


Monday started off with stress and frustration, followed by Tuesday with costly repairs needed for my vehicle and the rest of the week just snow balled from there. By the time Wednesday rolled around, the boyfriend knew just to take me on a long walk through the park and feed me sushi for dinner. The week was unraveling into a disaster (yes, that’s me being dramatic), after getting home from work, I’d plot myself down on the bed and just lay there. Mostly just to chill myself out from the day.


The next day though, my alarm would go off in the morning and I would get out of that bed. Part of me was dreading the day ahead, knowing how the week was going. The other part of me would awaken on my drive to work. Every morning, I am greeted by the skyline of Uptown Charlotte. Every single time, I would feel a flicker in my heart happy to be where I am.


Pages turn, new chapters begin, new chapters end and I fully believe they all happen in the moments in which they are supposed to.

Speaking honestly, I told myself I should have moved and expanded my business to Charlotte years ago. But this is the thing: years ago, I wouldn’t have been ready. Years ago, I know I would’ve just dipped my toe in the water, but many times, you just gotta take the dive.

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It’s not about the grass being greener. It can be as green as you want it to be, wherever you go. It’s about finding the right path for you…in a small city or a zip code shared by hundreds of thousands of other people.

Home just isn’t one place to me anymore, it has expanded to a new zip code and I’m diving right in.