A matter of perspective

It’s a funny feeling when your perspective on something changes. In this instance, my opinion of my hometown changed dramatically between ages 18 and 22.

As a senior in high school, I couldn’t wait to get out of Terre Haute. I was a few months from going “away” to college—Indiana University was only about an hour from home, but the majority of my schoolmates stayed in town to go to Indiana State, so it still counts. I absolutely could not wait to get away. I had been around the same people for so long and I was just over the drama of high school.

Even through my time in college, I never went home unless the campus completely shut down for the holidays. When my parents wanted to see me, they drove down and took me to dinner. There was always something about going home that just didn’t really appeal to me. It wasn’t as if I felt like I was above my hometown, I just didn’t feel like it had anything left to offer me.

With that being said, moving a plane ride away changed a few things. I still will never again be a resident of that town—it was a great place to grow up, but I could never see myself living there again. It would be like a continuation of high school, and that part of life ended after four years for a reason. However, I’m actually excited to go home and see family and friends, which is a completely new sensation.

I’m not sure what I’m most excited for about heading home next week: a Thanksgiving feast, not having to make food for myself for four days, seeing my family and adorable nephew, going to a Colts game, boozing and talking IU sports with my dad and uncles… the list goes on.

Anyway you slice it, the trip home will be a nice break from reality.

I guess appreciating your roots is just something that happens as you get older. I never thought I’d be excited to take a trip to Terre Haute, but it’s funny how life throws you some curveballs.