Feels like home

     Below are a few photos I gathered of my little bitty hometown; Randleman. I've come to miss the place lately and remember such vivid memories; both good and bad in this town. While I dealt with some of the most intense bullying a child could have been offered; I also found parts of myself growing up that I never knew I could. I found out how to face adversity; to stamp your mark on the world; and to enjoy who you are because who you are is beautiful and no one should have power over that beauty but you. 
In Randleman, being gay was tough. I was amongst one of the very very nil amount of kids who were at the time and I, amongst a lesbian at my local high school; was the only openly gay student within my school. The guy I felt for and secretly dated was in the closet until I moved away. I moved away in March of 2004-2005 just as I was beginning to find myself; to establish my place in the town; and to stand up for my rights as a student and as a person. I was so upset leaving; it's like I felt a piece of me die that day that I packed my final bags and began my journey to calling another place; home. I didn't want to go but I did it for the sake of my father finding love. Love that would later prove to be harmful and damaging in my own love life.

Still I leave these moments I have now as tokens behind the rest of my story...coming from a small hick town full of about less than 8,000 people at the time and dream of my childhood days when I had found inner strength to beat the odds; when I was a carefree and happy soul just awaiting those holidays that I could celebrate and enjoy with my friends and family. I didn't meet harsh people or cry over broken promises; I would smile, walk on, and keep my spirit on top of the clouds. Though I had my addictions and problems here; I grew here. I learned and loved, I found and lost, and I began and finished here. You can't change any of that no matter how far you travel. You can't erase your roots because your roots are your crucial points.


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