Which piece is my piece?

I'm in a reflective...sorta, well, questionable mood. Which is why I'm writing this. I found a childhood friend of mine on facebook. He wasn't just any friend, he was my best friend. It's been so long since I've seen this person I can't even begin to guess how long it's been. Long enough that we don't know anything about each other. I was looking over his profile and from the looks of things he is doing all the things that we dreamed about as kids. His job, hobbies- everything this person does...It's everything I saw myself doing and wanting to be as a kid. That is until I moved to Utah. (Up front I need to make this clear- I'm not bashing Utah in anyway or form. I love it here, this is my home.)

When I moved here I was in shell shock. I remember standing in front of the class being introduced. They looked at me and I looked at them like we were from two TOTALLY different worlds. It seems funny to think of it now; with the media and internet we are much more connected as a world than we were 20 years ago. They way I dressed, talked, things I was into- I didn't have a thing in common with anyone. Even at recess, the most popular thing to play at recess in CA was Soc-out. No one ever heard of it. I was lost, for a long time. My mother tried to dress me more like the other kids so I would fit in (and because you couldn't buy floresent and tie-dyed clothes here) I shuffled between different friends for awhile. I felt like I was always on good behavior, not ever able to be completely myself because no one understood where I was coming from. No one cared about the SF Giants, no one cared about the beach, no one wore converse shoes! Everyone was in polo shirts and bows and everyone seemed to be related to someone else. The first year of moving here is a great big blur. I only remember bits and pieces, probabley because I was convinced I wasn't staying here. This wasn't my home. I was from Los Altos. That's where I had friends and family who understood me. I wrote letters back and forth with a few of my friends form California. They would frequently ask me when I was moving back. I never knew how to answer.

A little over year after I moved here I met a girl who became my best friend and I'm grateful to say we are still best friends to this day. We were both lost, looking for someone to confide in. Everything seemed to fall into place quite quickly. I was finally able to show her all the things I loved and completely be myself. And though she wasn't able to relate to everything, she excepted it and didn't think I was weird because of it. (I'm sure this all sounds really trivial, but when your 8, it's a big deal) Now that I had a connection to my new home I had begun to cling onto both worlds: Salt Lake and Los Altos. But you can only hold onto both for so long. It wasn't until I went back to Los Altos to visit when I was in Jr. High that I realized that life had gone on without me. Though most things were the same, enough had changed that it made me feel like an outsider again. This was supposed to be my home and yet that feeling I got when I moved to Utah came back...only this time it came when I was where I thought I belonged. It was at that moment I realized I was not a Californian anymore, I was a Utahn (though I still would not have admitted it) But what did that mean to me? I still didn't feel like I had any roots there. Most of my family was still in CA. For the next few years I had begun on a quest to find meaning in the place in which I had only be residing. I felt as though in order to do that I had to cut the string I had attatched to my old home. When we went on trips and someone asked where we were from I stopped giving my long answer of, "Well, I'm originally from the Bay Area.." and simply answered, "Salt Lake".

When I was in my junior year in high school my dad began to think out loud about moving again. That familiar wave a panic that I had forgotten shot through me. Wait a minute- Panic? I was stunned. I had rooted myself and not even known it. I had grown into my home. I fit. I was a part of the big picture and it happened so gradually I hadn't even noticed.

I am happy to say I'm a Utahn. I've had lots of growth and fun here. I've made many friends. I've married and have begun to raise my own children. I've found a personal connection with the ancestry of the Utah pioneers. I feel that this is my home. Which brings me back to my first paragraph. While looking over the picture of my old friends life, I felt something tear inside of me. That girl that moved away 19 years ago is still inside me and I began to question- What happened? All those things I wanted to do, to see? The life I had visualized as a kid? A piece of me still wants that. How do you choose between you're dreams (especially when your dreams have to coinside with that of a spouse) Look to the future right? Look to the future and not to the past. Only I learn a lot from the past, so I have a hard time not looking back.

Here's another thing. Ever since I've been married I realized that I am the type of person that struggles with change. Not all change just big change. Like moving. My husband has always said he wants to move somewhere new, out of state. He wants a new landscape, new people, new experience. I have struggled with this our whole marriage. But only for one reason. I don't know how to leave my family- especially my parents. They have been the constant my entire life. But then their is the other half of me that is screaming for adventure! I want the exact same thing my husband wants-NEW! I witness many who grow up in an area and then settle and raise their kids, sometimes in the same neighborhood they grew up in. I know I do not want to do that. I don't want to live in the same place my entire life. I want to move around and experience as much as I can. Only I don't know how to start. AND NOW there is this new piece of me that wants to move back to the bay area and reclaim the life that was once mine! Believe me this has been a prayerful battle for a while now- and in someways I feel as though Heavenly Father is trying to stretch me, prepare me for the future. Because their is nothing that I hate more that knowing I am handicapping myself, holding myself back because of lack of faith in myself.

So now that that is out in the open- here is what I want from you. I need some comments. What do YOU think? Does any of this strike home for you? I am hoping some great insight will come from those I love. I learn best from others- So tell me.