"I am SD and SD is home. I am home and that brings me so much peace."

You know I felt very weird coming back to San Diego this summer. Since going away to UW I have definitely changed and I have grown a lot. I was hanging out with my dear friend Lisa and we were talking about life, and she asked me if I thought I had made the right choice to go to UW. I told her that I knew I made the right choice because I was happier than I was two years ago, at some point I had to let the wonder go and really embrace what I have in Seattle.

This past year I was in a really good place. I am more confident, happy, and I am surrounded by some very amazing people who have pushed me harder than anything I have experienced before. As happy as I was there, that left how I would feel coming back to San Diego in question. 

As a military brat I have constantly struggled defining where and what ‘home’ was. I was born in Georgia and from there moved around about every four years. Finally my family moved to San Diego, and we have been here the longest out of any other place I have lived. But, when you think about it I haven’t even lived here for more than half of my life.

I think lacking that sense of stability of what home is, really bothered me in the sense of security. A lot of my friends would talk about going back home where they were born and raised, or have spent the majority of their life, and I was still having an internal conflict of what that meant to me. 

For a while I would describe home as where my heart was, which you can obviously point to my family, but the past few weeks and conversations I’ve had with people who have known me for the past 8 years, have made me rethink my thoughts on what home is to me.

Alongside my family, I have begun to accept San Diego as home.

When it comes down to it, I am a byproduct of this place in almost every single aspect. Of course I will always have a soft spot for the places I lived and especially Georgia, heck you might hear my southern drawl in certain words I speak (inside joke circa 2011: “I read…”) and look at me weird when I refer to something differently than you, but that isn’t enough to define what home is or isn't.

I have gone through so much here with salt water lips and the costal breeze whipping across my face and it has all taught me how to love and live the way that I do now.

I am San Diego by the way I act, think, advocate, dress, enjoy my free time, and my love of wearing flip- flops as much as I can. I am SD by the way I maneuver the path down to No Surf, and my Ortiz burritos. I am SD by the way I fell in love with wall ball when I moved here, the way I fell in love with the spanish language, the way that I know these streets unlike any other,  the way I will wake up when no one else is out just to catch the sunrise at the cliffs, and it brings me the most clarity. And the list goes on…

But more importantly, I am SD because of the people who have granted me with some of the best memories and relationships I will go on to tell my grandchildren about.

At Jay and Brittany’s wedding I had a core group of people there (minus karlin and some non-band kids), who have seen me at my lows, who have seen the way I look in the wee hours of the morning after a band competitions (which is rough), and who I have the weirdest yet most comfortable relationships with. 

On the way home from the wedding I was just happy. I had time to catch up and laugh with these people who I will always think and care about to some capacity, no matter what. On the long drive home I was just buzzing. Earlier my good friend Jake and I were a little anxious to see how this night would go and it exceeded our expectations for sure. And when trying to figure out why, this is what I came up with: We all had to spend so much time together and got to know each other well during the peek of our hormonal and emotional drama filled teenage years, and have seen each other through ugly times, but since moving past that and focusing on what is in front of us now, we can bypass the awkward small- talk and just fall into things like it was 2008 or 2010 or 2012… It felt comfortable and right.

My heart was so happy and it still tingles a little bit. Being here gives me a little something that Washington, or Hawaii, or any other place I’ve been to, will never do. Obviously there will be exceptions of people who I have met and will meet down the road, but this place and these people will be who I smile the most with when I see them in the coming years, and what I will reminisce upon the most when I think of my childhood.

I have a long way until I really have a grip on who I am, but if there is one thing this trip has taught me…it is that I am SD and SD is home. I am home and that brings me so much peace, no matter where my future leads me.

To my past teachers, old coaches, teammates, band kids, and friends beyond: Thank you for bringing me home. 

Much Love.

Here are some mems that make this home:

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED

I was planning on spending the summer in Seattle so I could work and spend time with my roomies who are all leaving me for bigger and better next year.But I knew I was going to have to come home for my knee so I could return to the pitch next year and I finally got my surgery date. After two years of dealing with this pain and discomfort soon it would all be over.

Thursday, I was in the car with my mom and I told her my thumb had been bothering me and she took a look at them and told me to go to urgent care. I was thinking it was a simple dislocation, they’d pop it back in and I will be on my way, but nope.

As my doctor begins to explain what he believe was wrong I sat there and chuckled and he asked what was wrong. I chuckled for three reasons. One: He was explaining the same thing I had surgery for 2 years ago 3 fingers down. Two: I knew my mom was not going the be happy about it. Three (and for those of you wondering): I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO IT.

Now I have this stupid splint on my hand and I personally think it is a little much, but my cousins and brother sure were amused. 

Honestly, I am so over being injured. As I have gotten older sports have become more important to me. At the same time, as I have gotten older the more they have been taken away from me. 

...

It is starting to get to me mentally. Senior year of high school, I was benched with injury the entire season except for 3minutes of our senior night game. My team went on to win CIF for the first time in I think 20years? That was hard. I felt useless. Not including cheer, basketball was the first sport I had ever played and it was just taken just like that. That was a humbling period in my life, where I learned the power of voice and how to lead through that when I couldn’t lead physically. To this day I thank my teammates who continued to allow me to really be a part of that team. 

… 

I’ve had other minor injuries since as every athlete does. Throughout my freshman year at UW my knee was okay but after hurting it running, I knew I had to deal with it and I knew that meant not playing this past season. Go figure, they win regionals (pretty convincingly), and made it to nationals. Sure we have some room to grow, but we played some beautiful lacrosse throughout the season. Like, my teammates are BABs. Being on this team and being able to produce physically on the field can be an important point of evaluation on how people view you, and although I know what I am capable of, there were many points where I felt inadequate. However I eventually let that go because I was able to grow in many other ways this past year. The bright side of being able to watch every game with detail, taking stats, and putting a word in when appropriate, was that it showed me a new aspect of the game and I was able to not worry so much about myself and how I was doing and more on my teammates.

…

I guess this random thumb thing just really got to me the past 24 hours. At my core I am many things, but a good chuck of that is that I am an athlete. I am a competitor. I have the some of my favorite memories on the field/ court chasing people down and being their worst nightmare in any sport ( except softball.. can’t really do that). That spirit touches everything I do.

On one end I am sick of getting injured, I can’t run in a game or around with my future kids with a beat up body that is constantly aching. And on the other side of that coin, I am scared to get hurt again. I am scared of the repercussions of that next injury. I know that is a realistic fear for every athlete but the past few years have been draining. I am determined to leave high- competitive sports behind on my own terms and not because they were taken away by injury, but until then I will always have that thought of "what-if" in the back of my head.

No matter the outcome I want to be and will be better for it. Sports have given so much to me and as cheesy as it might sound, sometimes I forget why I play in the first place.As nervous as I am to step on the pitch again, I guess I am equally as excited. I want to embrace every moment of the next two years. I have been reminded of what being an athlete really means to a person. I know I still have some playing time under my belt but I love to plan ahead and I know I’m gonna miss it. So Let’s Do It. Up Up UW.