In six years of marriage we have lived in five different places. I don't just mean we have moved to the other side of the street or to that quaint little house across town. We're talking about major moves to the other side of the country and across the ocean. Again. And again. And again.
These moves have been for school. For work. For fun. For the best.
Every time we land in a new place, we talk about how we can't wait to actually settle down.
Once we have kids then we can settle.
Once that ideal job opens up then we can settle.
Just one more move and then it will end.
In the meantime I write. I share. I wonder if it will end.
I wonder if I want it to end.
Living in so many places in such a short amount of time has taught me that who I am isn't who I thought I was. It has made me realize that identity is as fluid and changing as the tide.
Specifically, my time spent in flat 66B in London was when I realized that moving to a new town, meeting new people, and exploring new street corners isn't just a phase that I am in.
It has now created who I am. It has become ME.
66B helped me realize the parts of me that have remained constant through the shifting tides.
I am a new mother,
a thrift store junkie,
a dental hygienist,
I love Sherlock,
Law & Order,
the color green,
the Pacific Northwest.
Sometimes my life is good.
Sometimes its comical.
And sometimes its just, well, life.
So for better or for worse, these are my stories.
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