Why is home so difficult? I start to not like the person I am and become that person that I am afraid i might be. Does that sentence even make sense? The fact is that I am happiest in South America. I flourish there.
There I can be myself, live my life and explore whatever I need to explore. So much of my life, things have been shoved down my throat and I swallowed all of it whole. Hook line sinker. But there…I don’t have to be anything except me. It can be summed up best in one word: freedom.
Freedom feels exactly what I need right now. I need space—apparently a few continent’s worth—to make my own choices. I have no idea if they are the right choices but for ONCE i need to make them myself.
