I have always been extremely nostalgic to an unproductive point. I assume many people feel this at one point or another, but you know that feeling of being so nostalgic for the past that it inhibits you from feeling the present?
Coming of age felt like being in a perpetual state of nostalgia even though so much was happening for the first and only time. Hence, story within a photo:
This photograph was taken on my digital camera at eight in the morning in October 2008. It was one of those precious mornings that start out a bit chilly but warm you to content. I had stayed up all night heartbroken and feeling sick and a friend drove me to this park to swing and relax.
This may not be the space to air out nostalgia, but this park was and is the epicenter of my roots, my world. Among the firsts or bests of this park are childhood birthday parties, neighborhood festivals, skinny-dipping, and meeting people that had my heart.
I’ve struggled a lot over the years feeling guilt for leaving my home because I don’t know many people in my life who did. Growth shouldn’t bring guilt, but it is hard to stomach. What’s harder to stomach is all of my photographs, all of my memories and trying to compartmentalize who I have been and wondering who I will become.