Tonight is the last night I will sleep in the room I have been sleeping in for the past 10 months.
Others live in their homes for years before they move. Some never move. Ten months is but a speck in the continuum that is life, but these 10 months have been significant for me.
Ten months ago, I said good bye to my mom and dad and brother (my sister moved out years before, but I’m sure I said good bye to her as well somehow) as I moved to Indiana to be with my husband.
That’s a big change for any person, as you can imagine. But for a Hyderabadi-Muslim woman who had always lived with an immediate family member, it was also a scary change. My family was my life. Now that I was moving away, who would I be? What would I do?
The first few months were a difficult adjustment. I missed my family so much. It’s not that I don’t miss them anymore, but just thinking of my parents brought me to tears in the beginning. Sure, I loved Mr. Rafia, but he was (is!) so different from me. I had to adjust to a new routine, a new way of doing things. The freedom actually felt threatening. Was I going to lose who I was for the past 29 years? I didn’t have any friends. I couldn’t cook (I had my fair share of mishaps). I didn’t know what I was doing with my life. I felt like a hapless mess.
But then a few months later, the end of March to be exact, I started blogging again – and that seemed to herald the beginning of a new life I was happy to call my own.
As I sit to type this, attempting to ignore the physical disarray surrounding me, I can honestly say that I am looking forward to the changes ahead. I’ve slowly come to welcome the freedom I now have, though I’m still learning to fully accept it.
I hope in the years ahead, when these 10 months seem like a mere moment in time, I will look back with fondness and gratitude.
Okay, so it’s not quite the last episode of Growing Pains, but being the melodramatic drama queen that I am, I thought of that moment earlier today, when Maggie comes back into the house one last time and finds Mike’s carving on the wall. I did something similar in my parents’ home in Chicago. And who knows, maybe I’ll be a senator one day too? No, I won’t. But it’s fun to say that I might (Apologies to my readers who weren’t alive in the 80s and therefore don’t know what Growing Pains is – I only know the show because I watched the re-runs on the Disney Channel over a decade later).
Bye, folks. The next time I blog, I’ll (hopefully) have a REAL desk! Well, I’ll at least be writing in a different room.