This morning I had blueberry sourdough pancakes while looking out the window at the tallest mountain in the country.
I needed that. I truly did. Valdez was breath-taking, but it was not home. Everything was grey and chilled. The Midwest was fine, but the moment I stepped out of the Tucson airport in 2005 I knew I was meant to be a desert rat. It felt right.
If I had never been to Arizona, I probably would have gotten along in Chicago. Heck, I might go back. But now it will be harder. I know it's not my fit. And Alaska! Alaska! What if I had been born in Alaska and never left? I would have thought life was about being uncomfortable? I mean, perhaps I would have mended my ways, but sometimes I think we are who we are and that can't be sewn differently.
So, I guess what's weird, is that traveling to Alaska has made me feel a lot of compassion for transgendered peoples.
"We are who we are."--the immortal Ke$ha