I thought I was independent

Today’s revelation: I’m not as independent as I thought

I’ve always considered myself pretty independent, and certainly my friends think so as well. Today, precipitated by having to say goodbye to my brother and his family (who are moving to San Diego), I realized that I have actually never lived apart from my family. This was a shock to me. I talk to others who see their families all the time and I think it’s amazing, but the truth is that I’m one of those people. I went to college on the east coast, and was within 1/2 hour of my father’s family. While I didn’t know them really, they were still family and I had somewhere to go if I so chose. When I left for a year, I went to the Philippines to live with my family there. And here, my father is only 1/2 hour away, my aunt is not even 4 miles from my house, and my brother is (was) also a short bike/bus/car trip away. And I see them all at least once a month if not more often than that.

I have to make many revisions to my picture of myself it seems.


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