I think I consistently notice myself being more and more comfortable in my own body and more and more able to deal with whatever pain is going on for me at the moment. I also find an exponentially growing gratitude in my heart as I get older. Going home was a whirlwind of familiar faces and comforting smells, the feeling I had missed of being supported by everyone around me accompanied by a newer feeling, a craving maybe for my new life in New York. There is nothing like the family that I have back home, and I’ll forever be grateful for the people that support me there. But while I was so grateful to be coming back to such support and love, not to mention the feeling I’d missed so much of the sun on my skin, it was very clear to me that at least for now I had started a new life elsewhere. I had expected my trip to LA to be bittersweet, to be reminded of how much I’d missed it and how much I wanted to stay there. This feeling was instead replaced by a newfound excitement for my independence and the yearning to return to the city and my new family here. Looking out at the city skyline from the taxi back to my dorm, I couldn’t have been happier to call it home.