Over the past couple months, a lot of things have happened—new job, plethora of house projects, squeezing a quick road trip in, hurricane, tree falling on our car during said hurricane… and this isn’t an exhaustive list.
All in all, we’ve been very fortunate… and the many happenings that have kept us busy have generally been good things (save that errant tree, of course.) However, I’ve definitely reached the point where I’m ready to cry uncle. And like most people, I don’t tend to do that very often.
Here’s the thing: I’m still trying to fall in love with the South.
A short time ago, I was dead set on joining the mass exodus of young people who are fleeing the South. My whole life, I operated under the assumption that the South was just a stop along the way. Most people who have grown up here and gotten their degrees take ‘em and run.
And honestly? I don’t blame them for leaving. The South is hard to love. It’s still harder to defend. There’s a tightrope strung between loving the South and acknowledging its many failures, both past and present. That double-edged sword of shame and pride is one that we’re keenly familiar with—you know the one. Teeter to one side, you must have a confederate battle flag or two lying around. Teeter to the other, you’re a de facto Yankee. Go on, git. You probably put sugar on your grits anyway.
For this month’s #12habits challenge, I’m doing something that I’ve known I needed to do for some time now. It’s been an errant thought that I’ve had for probably a couple years now, tried to implement for a week without telling anyone, and then immediately failed at committing to. But now, it’s time to embrace this idea and see it through to fruition.