You can never truly go back home.
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There's something to be said about change. Over time we rebuild ourselves into a stronger replica of our youthful shells - we learn, we mature, and we develop new sets of skills and also vulnerabilities. But there's this stupid regression that happens when we go home.. We relive our old lives and often return to our old selves, even for a few seconds. Suddenly the fears and habits from our youth emerge like roadblocks in the way of the fabulous beings that we've become and we abandon our new ways. The other night I caught myself wanting to mind-slap old Carson for the big jerk-self that somehow rekindled amidst the flames of high school wants and needs. Learning and growing and being conscious of the process thereof is quite honestly an incredible thing - they key is not to lose sight of our progress in our return to the subtle comforts of the past.
On the same token, I think that we award too much value to the judgements and (low) expectations of our ghosts.. We start stomping on our own toes. This connects to a recent post re: 'coming to terms with the fact that people will fight to define you' in that going home need not be a regression, but a visit.. One where the only person we need to prove wrong is our old, stubborn self.
It's so easy to say "never forget who you are and where you've been and where you might one day be," but really..
We've been through far too much to deal with stupid shit shenanigans.
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