It has been a year and a half since I stopped writing as The Displaced City Girl. A friend had suggested that maybe after this long on the prairie I needed to rethink the message that I was sending with the title “Displaced.” Did people think I just wanted to leave? Were people thinking that this title meant I didn’t love my new home? Was I indirectly telling people that I was unsatisfied? I took these concerns to heart and decided that I would at least take a break from The Displaced City Girl, but I am back. And I am still displaced. I am NOT misplaced.
I am here in this wild crazy place with million mile per hour winds and rolling river hills. I am here in this place that can change from a muddy mess to a drought in a day’s time. I am home. But, I still love the city. The feeling I get when I start to see traffic and trees again is indescribable. I love the sounds and smells of my previous home, the place where I grew up. There is nothing wrong with that. We each grow up in different places and situations, yet those places stick with us. Those places helped shape who we are, whether we stayed there or moved on to other places.
As the Osmond’s sang, “I’m a little bit country, and I’m a little bit rock ‘n roll. I’m a little bit of Memphis and Nashville with a little bit of Motown in my soul.
I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I know I love it so.”
Peace to you all!
The Displaced City Girl