Out of the Cocoon

My belly was getting close to touching the steering wheel. Recently I had cut my hair fairly short because being pregnant during a Texas summer is no joke. I was driving to my new home, with my mother-in-law in the passenger’s seat and my two little boys in the back, with the eldest’s beloved hamster in a cage between them. Inside my belly was my third baby, a girl. She would be born in a different state than her brothers. And then, in a short, but long-at-times decade, everything would change.

This trip was the beginning of our life in Louisiana. Our Honda CRV was strategically packed with everything it could fit, including some of my clothes, my scrapbooks, printed photographs and all three of my children.

I look back on those first days ten years ago in wonderment. What would I have done if I had known? If someone had told me then how my life would move and reshape itself inside this physical moving of my family, I never would have believed a word they’d said. I would have at least laughed uncomfortably if they described it correctly, giving me all the messy details. Divorce was certainly not on my mind then. Instead, I was ultimately trying to survive this life we were building, the one we would eventually break down and I would build back up again, with my new partner.

I have found myself resistant to change most of my life. Turns out that is because I am prone to anxiety at times. Most of us who deal with anxiety would rather stay in our comfortable cocoon, where things are the same and run like clockwork. Apparently for me, this was not meant to be. The growth I have endured since moving to this place ten years ago is hard to fully quantify or summarize. What I can say, however, is even though inside I am the same person, I am better. I am more my true self than I was the day I moved here. I am more ME.

Thank God I am given the freedom to be that person. I was not able to do that before. I was held back by myself and others. I have learned through self-reflection, prayer, meditation and counseling, that it is best for everyone in my life if I am my true, honest self. In the past I spent so much time trying to be “perfect”, “better” or what others wanted. It was exhausting.

However, I do carry many good memories from the days when my kids were little, after we moved here. My children have essentially grown up here. My girl only knows Texas as place where we go to visit family and mini vacations. It has never been her home like it was for myself and the boys.

I spent eight years raising them in the same house, where their toys were strewn about, doing their laundry, changing their diapers, letting them run in the sprinkler out front. I cooked so many meals and heated up many chicken nuggets. I let them climb in bed with me and wiped their tears. I cleaned up their literal spilled milk and watched them open Christmas presents. I worried when they went off to first days of school. I got frustrated when they wouldn’t listen and their stuff was EVERYWHERE. I snuggled with them and watched The LEGO Movie or Frozen over and over. I took them to the library and swim lessons and soccer practice and school. I rocked them to sleep, while I myself dozed off, full of tired love.

These days I am back to working full time, outside the home and the kids are pretty independent and only require the occasional snuggle (dangit!) And even though sometimes I get a little uptight about the busy-ness of our lives, I know we are all where we need to be, including in our new home, which I was able to buy on my own last year. Last weekend we welcomed the rest of our family inside its walls and after a decade here, life begins anew once again.

In may ways Lafayette has changed me. Not only because I now know Cajun words, traditions and families but also because it has helped form who I am while going through some major life events. I not only love my friends (who have become family) here, but also living in a smaller town and raising my kids surrounded by a rich culture of love and belonging. We have been accepted despite our faults and misgivings. We have been taught a new way to love. We have helped rescue friends from washed-away memories during a flood. We have helped others heal from their brokenness just by being there for them. We have prayed and stood steadfast in our family changing, morphing into something new, escaping out of the “comfortable” cocoon to a new family and new ways.

Coming here ten years ago, I never would have known this place would breathe new life into me and give me wings. Thankful it has. Blessed beyond measure.