You guys, major life transitions like this make you take stock. Make you realize the icky, weak, vain places inside of you and your previous misconceptions about how awesome you are.
I’ve come face to face with the truth that I care about material things more than I thought I did. I’ve long thought myself immune to materialism. The rationalizer within me still says, “Well yeah, but still not as much as MOST people.” But the truth is, not taking our souvenirs/decorations with this move is wounding my pride a little.
I didn’t realize how much my identity as a world-travelin’ bohemian was tied up into my trinkets.
When people walk into our house they’re instantly able to pick up our nomadic vibe by the stuff we own. The Nigerian artwork on the wall, the European knick knacks. If you take those things away, how will people still know I’ve been lots of cool places? How will people know I’m not just some boring white girl?!
Can you say, growing pains? Sigh.
For now, we’re packing these things up securely and putting them in storage. Don’t know what the future holds for them, or for us, or how soon we’ll be reunited. But I’m trying to trust that it’s all for the best.
And that I still have enough spunk left in me to assure people I’m not just a boring white girl. Take that, materialism.