I suppose I accepted in an act of all embracing, twenty twelve defiance. So it really is fitting that leaving should cause the same gut-wrenching pit of despair and cold anxiety inside me. The kind that swirls in my stomach, unbalancing me, making it difficult for me to walk. The kind my counsellor always seemed so concerned about.
I know some people would tell me to stay the course. Remind me that some people would have to; that they do not have the choice. That I should be grateful. That things could be worse.
Well I am chequing my privilege. I am claiming my right to be choosy. I will not settle because others suffer, I will not let them place settlements into my skin, building exponential colonies. I’m sorry if that sounds selfish, but I will not hold back progress until the others can catch up. I do not wait, only to become stagnant. I want an ocean.