POOF PIECE No. 13: Wild Wild West

I’m coming back to my hometown more often these days as my rental is currently going through renovations and if i’m honest, it always feels like my last resort. It’s not because I don’t love my family or the area, it’s because this place has always felt like one that is not mine to sink into and relax in. As I’ve grown older, my peace is what I protect the most and sometimes, walking down the street being gawked at isn’t something that I find appealing when safety isn’t necessarily nearby. With the addition of wanting to avoid certain people, this adds a gorgeous layer of anxiety that isn’t a cocktail I wish to sip on. 

As the beautiful, harsh sun was setting in the west it forced my eyes to swink whilst I drove aimlessly around my childhood suburb of Ruse. Collecting memories as if they were pokemon cards. Each one being a portal into a time where there was happiness yet confusion, confusion being a far more diplomatic way of saying depression. My childhood friends' homes where I'd discover intermittent connection with an overarching sense of something more fulfilling was ahead, remained untouched, collecting more cobwebs and charm. I understood then, that these friends were not my people but I appreciated they were, then..

In some ways I envy those who don’t feel the need to leave as that sounds like a far easier world to exist in. The reality is that for anyone who feels or is different, they’ll need to endure years and sometimes decades in a space that doesn’t serve and potentially harms them. Therefore having to undo all that was learnt, whilst at the same time seeking solace which may take a lifetime to find. I believe I have found it but ultimately, I know I’ll forever chase that feeling as I’ll inevitably continue to alter and evolve and therefore so will my environment and relationships. 

One thing I’m thankful for is that Campbelltown taught me a lot. Hard lessons, yes, but it taught me that I deserve to feel comfortable and in turn seek respect. That a postcode doesn’t define you, but it does shape you. I’m in a constant game of ping pong asking myself “why did my parents decide to move to a place without factoring in the potential harm it may bring to their children” the answer I keep coming back to is that, you can never know and you make the decisions that feels right at that time. They ultimately did a fabulous job, my home was always a sacred place where I could dance, sing, act and play dress up. I (un)fortunately have the home videos to prove it. 

My mum was the type of mum where friends would come over and say things like “I wish my mum was like your mum”, she was the perfect balance of supportive yet non-intrusive and would let my brother and I explore our interests without judgement. I guess, what I'm  articulating is that when she left, so did my idea of home. My safety net was gone and as my therapist puts it “she was no longer there to sweep the predestined waves (danger) from shore”. That metaphor is something that I’ve sat with and analysed more than you know. To understand that she immediately knew I was different and had to protect me, even from family members’ is something I'm sure all parents go through but the ease in which she did it will be something I’ll forever be in awe of.  

I feel the same when I visit my brother and sister-in-law back home. I consider my brother’s wife a sister and therefore her five other sisters like my own. When I observe her parenting my niece and nephew’s, I see parts of my mother. A woman who loves her children unconditionally is a gift to witness and fills me with immense comfort each time. 

Parenting however, is something I can’t see myself doing personally and I’ve come to terms with that. I can of course picture myself with a family but I’m not sure it’s something I desire and if it’s not something I desire then there is no way I will do it. [cue Charli XCX’s “I think about it all the time”]. 

Now speaking of parents, there is something that many adult children go through when they return to their home, which is to regress when you’re back in your familial nest. I'm getting better at it but there’s something peculiar about returning to the space that you were raised in. The space where you had your firsts. The space where you experienced the hardest times and therefore are constantly faced with the memories of when you felt lost, anxious and a little confused. You can’t help but be reminded of those experiences when you look at a photo, sit on the couch and immerse yourself within those four walls. If i’m honest, there’s not too many happy memories for me now as the traditions that were built are no longer. It’s no one's fault as everyone’s experience of grief is not linear and therefore okay. But, what's important to remember is that you need to create your own traditions going forward and that is what I’m doing. 

We’re ultimately creatures of habit and we consciously or unconsciously create new traditions whether it’s seeing your friends after work for pub trivia, going for walks around your new home or having those familiar faces that greet you in the morning as you wait for the bus. It's imperative to honour your past traditions from home whilst removing yourself from the equation and understanding that as you move on, so does your past life. Being able to go home is a gift and a privilege. I’m so fortunate to be able to go home and feel safe at my parents home and acknowledge that it’s none of my business what happens outside of that. 

I’ll finish with a situation that happened at Macarthur Square (Mac Square if you’re nasty) where I ran into the mother of a person I went to school with. We had a beautiful conversation where she shared my old friends successes but also struggles which forced me to come to terms with the fact that all people struggle. No matter where they’re from or postcode. That conversation whether she realises or not, grounded me in a way that will allow me to approach situations differently in future. We’re all humans, filled with anxiety or discomfort and while yes, discrimination is never acceptable, how beautiful it is that we’re sharing this time together. Because amongst the darkness that is occurring, there is still joy.