Driving through Texas felt like reading a chapter I’d already outgrown.More like flipping through an old photo album where the faces were familiar, but the colors had faded. This place had new curves I didn’t recognize; the corner store still stood, but its soul had been gutted. Now it sells vape pens and overpriced gadgets where loose squares and kool cups once were sold. More mega churches built for the sinners to keep even bigger secrets saved in the humungous four walls. I rolled the window down. The air hit different; not just in temperature, but in truth. As I closed my eyes to take in the warm due the only Texas can create and heard a voice so clear;
your energy is done here~you don’t fit here anymore
Not because I’ve forgotten where I’m from, but because I’ve changed in ways this place hasn't. Some folks are still living inside the same year, same stories, same patterns; while I’ve cracked my whole damn life wide open.It’s wild to stand where your younger self once stood and not recognize the thoughts that used to live in your own body. In your own head.
But growth is like that~quiet, rebellious, and unapologetic.
Texas stayed still. I didn’t.
As I stared out over the land that raised me, I realized; I no longer belong to the soil here. I belong to the wind that moves and to the sky that never stops becoming something else. Ever changing and evolving. This place used to feel like home. Now, it feels like a place where my energy can be depleted in just two miles of driving through it and a conversation with a local at the corner store. I’ve outgrown it; familiar, yes, but too tight to breathe in. I don’t regret my drastic move from this beautiful ranch life, but staying here meant stagnation. And I see that it was the best move ever.
