I think each of us has a bag of moments. A bag of pivotal moments that look unassuming and unmemorable to the outside world but, to us, they’re everything. They’re the moments that grew us up or humbled us down to earth. They’re the moments we decided to fight or the moment we encountered an extra layer of strength when we least expected it but we knew, deep down, we needed it the most.
I wrote about one of those moments in Come Matter Here. It happened one evening as I was sitting in my favorite coffee shopping working into the late hours of the night. This was a pattern for me, a self-made ritual I started in order to avoid having to go out and socialize with others.
I was semi-new to the city of Atlanta. I was past the point of “visiting for a few weeks to try things out” and definitely progressing into the stage of “it’s time to plant some real roots down and figure out if you’re staying or not.” I began going to the coffee shower after 5 pm so I could work on projects and take on extra work. It gave me an excuse, a mask of sorts to hide behind that meant I was “too busy” or “too much of a girl boss” to go out and make friends.
It’s not that I didn’t want friends, I just was afraid to let people in. I was afraid to do the building. I was afraid to not be loved and accepted when I chose to let people in.
I remember the owner of the coffee shop coming up to me.
“You know,” he said to me. “I wonder about you.”
“Really?” I came back at him. “What do you wonder about?”
I expected him to say something flattering. Something about my work ethic or how cool I was or anything that made it seem like maybe I was getting the hang of this “new city” thing. But instead, his answer took me off guard.
“I just wonder who picks you up from the airport. That’s all.” I wonder if he knew the gravity of the statement he was making. How I could hear...
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