Getting back to myself

I was from a small town in Mississippi so Memphis, TN might as well have been New York, NY. My grandmother would yell out the screen door "Get your fast tale in here. And tell that boy if he can't cut his hair he can't come in this house." They used to tell me my accent was sweet and I would think they sounded just like me but I guess that two hours south made all the difference. I would run in her house in my too short shorts and flip flops. My grandmother used to say that I moved too fast for the dust to even stay on my feet. I was going somewhere. I didn't know where yet but it didn't include that tiny town I came from. The women I saw from there had babies and husbands but no lives. I wanted babies but I wanted to live first and I didn't care if I ever had a husband. I vowed to not become boring just because I had kids. I would travel and do things with a baby at my skirt tail. I would show my kids how to ride camels and elephants and swim in lakes.

Things changed, and I grew up. But I have decided to get back to that girl. With the dreams and the plans. I've decided to get back to myself. I'll let you know how it goes.