HOME-aha

I think it’s cute that Omahans get the benefit of calling Omaha, HOME-aha. The name just works. Definitely doesn’t flow the same with KansasHOME City, nor any other version of the words “Kansas City” combined with the word “Home”. But somehow, someway, Kansas City is home.. and so is Omaha/HOME-aha.

It did not start that way. I am a Kansas Citian, tried and true (and born and raised). I love Kansas City, I never thought I would leave to be honest. I mean, I even went to KU (goooooo Jayhawks!πŸ’™β€οΈ) just to stay close to home, much to my Boomer Sooner parents probable regret. Kansas is flat, and purportedly boring, and wheat-filled.. AND I JUST LOVE IT. Although not a fan of barbecue (an actual sin), there is so much about KC that I love: the landscape, the adventures, the memories, the sports, the energy, the lakes.

But mainly, I just love the fact that my family and friends are there. I’ve talked about it before, but to me, there are few concepts/ideas as important to me than home. I do not like leaving it. Like.. I’m one of those people that was EXCITED when quarantine happened so I had a legitimate reason to turn down plans. 🀣. I’ve also talked about how home isn’t a place, or a bunch of things, but rather a person, a feeling, a safety. Home is an environment and there are almost no environments that measure up to home in my opinion (EVEN COUNTING THE BEACH! 😱)

Truth be told: my last childhood sleepover was in second grade (an unfortunate puking incident ended that fun). My next sleepover was the first night in the dormitory at KU. So no, my ass was not going to Oklahoma, or any other state for that matter, because I simply wasn’t sure I was leaving home at all. My freshman schedule consisted of classes every other day, not because it was convenient (which it was, btw), but so I could go home between school days. I’m just a homebody, or a “family-body” if you will.

Being away from my family is comparable to torture, especially as a young, 20-something. The thought of being without my safety net, my protectors, and my favorite people, was inconceivable. Home was wherever they were. And they, my mom, my dad, and my brother, are still home. They always will be.

But three years ago, I embarked on a new journey, and I moved to Omaha, despite everything in me telling me not to. Love does weird things to you, y’all πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈ. Matt was too good to pass up, and I wanted, so badly, to give it a fair shot. A 3-hour, distance relationship.. was not a fair shot. So I did it. I moved.

Well.. sort of. I didn’t tell anyone I was moving (including matt), I barely packed anything, and I just kinda showed up in Omaha with my dog, my clothes and a pillow, and announced that I would be living here now. 🀣 (I am still not sure my boyfriend invited me to live with him, but after 3 years, that is neither here nor there). Not acknowledging moving was the best way to move for me, but I truly don’t recommend it. It’s a little stressful for all parties. (😝 poor Matt).

And I’m not going to lie.. I HATED IT, absolutely hated it. I did myself no favors. I moved while I was supposed to be studying for the bar, so I was not working, I was not socializing, I was not even studying with anyone. The only person I saw was Matt, which lost some of its excitement after a while (not because of him, but because of me). I was sleeping all day, studying all night (less distractions) and I was miserable.

Friendly piece of advice: Don’t move somewhere and allow yourself 0 opportunity to make friends. Your boyfriend can only be your only source of socialization for so long.. before you both go crazy. TRUST US. πŸ€ͺ

So, with that outstanding start, I’m sure you can imagine how the rest of the first year went. I had no life, no friends of my own (bless Matt’s friends’ souls. They tried). I didn’t LOVE my job. The winters were colder. Matt’s dog was kind of a dick. I didn’t know how to do simple adult tasks without my parents. I was confused and stressed, and just really, really unhappy. Even my grocery store wasn’t organized how I liked.

(This is how irrational I was, I was mad about the freaking organization of the grocery store). So, I decided, I would go home. I was done, I tried it, and it didn’t work. I loved Matt (and still do) but he could come with me if he wanted πŸ˜‰. It wasn’t working.

I told my dad, who was THRILLED and I told my mom, who I was expecting to be thrilled as well.. but she surprised me. First, important note: my mom and I are besties, being away from her sucked and still sucks. So when I was expecting her to be brimming with excitement, and she was not, I was shocked. That day, my mom gave me some of the best advice of my life.. and completely changed my life’s trajectory. She told me she would love for me to come home, but she wanted me to be able to come home, knowing that I had given living here my all. Basically, she wanted me to be able to tell her/myself/Matt that I tried my hardest to be happy, and I just didn’t like it, and she simply did not think that was the truth. She was right, I was bent on being miserable.

I was put-off, and honestly, I am sure my feelings were hurt. Knowing me, I probably took it as a “don’t come home, we don’t want you here” at first, but the more I thought about it.. the more I realized she was right. I would always regret moving home, if I couldn’t even tell myself that I tried my best to be happy in my circumstances. So that day, I gave myself a month. I called girls I had met, but never hung out with, and made dinner plans, I made date night plans with Matt and other couples, I started going to work functions. I even spent time learning the stupid grocery store layout, so it wasn’t so overwhelming to go.

Crazily enough, a month later, I didn’t want to go home. I told myself I would give myself a couple more months (to let this new energy subside) and see how I felt.

Three months later, I still didn’t want to go home.

Now, we are three years in, and I can happily say, I’m HOME-aha. πŸ’•

Kansas City will always be home, but you can always have more than one home. Honestly, I think everyone should. You should have your family, that you are always “at home” with, you should have your life partner/person, who makes anywhere in the world feel like home, and you should have your group of friends, which feel like home the second you’re reunited. Home is people. It is not a place. I stand by it.

The day my mom made me promise to give happiness my all, before I came home, was the day my life changed. It was at the moment, or the moments afterwards, once I was thinking with my brain and not my heart, that I realized happiness is a choice. Like the type of choice that you have to choose every freaking morning, as soon as you wake up and continue to choose all damn day long. But it’s worth it.

It is ALWAYS worth it to be happy. I will forever be thankful for my mom, for giving me that little nugget of truth, and for forcing me to choose me and to choose happy. I’m sure she had no idea how profoundly it would impact my life, but it has. I choose happiness, every day. I choose Omaha. I choose home with Matt. I choose to visit my family, and love on my people, and then, return to Omaha. I choose my friends, new and old. I choose my job, even on the hard days. I choose my dogs (and all other dogs in the world). I choose happiness. And I choose home. πŸ’•

Plus, the best thing about home being a concept? It can exist anywhere. You can always go home.

Choose happy, go home. Sunny daze ahead, sweet friends (I know it!).

Home #1
Home #2
Home #3.

Published by SunnyDazeAhead

Well... it's happening, due to high demand, and my monstrous ego, I've decided to blog. Simply put, I can't imagine who wouldN'T want to read my crazy antics and get to know the inner-workings of my semi-stable brain. Maybe, you'll laugh (hopefully, WITH me). Maybe you'll cry or maybe you'll get bored. It's really up to you what you take from this, all I can promise is brutal honesty, a heavy dose of sarcasm, some cuss words (I am who I am, sorry dad), and a little insanity. My mom has also recommended I share some of my recipes.. so maybe that too. The face behind the blog is... hard to put into words and words are "kinda" my thing. I am loud, I am outspoken, I am silly, I am sarcastic. I am wildly defensive of my loved ones. I have an anxious mind and I spend a LOT of time trying to keep my brain from spiraling into worst case scenarios. I work hard to keep my mind a happy, optimistic place, which I have come to realize is not my mind's natural habitat. I spend almost all my time with my three dogs: Lucy, Brantley, and Zeppelyn, who I am convinced are the greatest beings on the planet. I probably love my parents TOO much, but I am blessed to share a very close friendship with both and it is REALLY important to me that I never take that for granted. I love a boy, I have loved the same boy for years now, and I moved for him and honestly; home is where he is. Fine, his name is Matt and he is most definitely TAKEN, so back off ladies. I am a KC Native; a Jayhawk by choice, and an Omaha- Transplant. I spent my entire life telling everyone I was going to be a doctor, only to turn out to be an attorney in the scheme of things (I am proud of that, it is just not where I saw my life going). I am often convinced that I should have been born in a small town (John Cougar Mellencamp- Style) and any part of my heart not occupied by the dogs and Matt, is occupied by the late, but no less great Star, my horse/partner/best friend of 15 years. That's right, I am a former "Horse Hottie" and it is one of my favorite things about myself. Otherwise, I try to be a kind, generous, and a good person. Sometimes, I think I am misunderstood, and other times, I am understood a little too well. My face will tell you anything that I SOMEHOW manage to filter my mouth from saying. Oh, and I think I need all baby animals: zoo animals, farm animals, ALL the animals. That should pretty much wrap it up -- I'm Ashley; Enneagram: Whatever. In truth, I don't know what my mission is here. I don't foresee myself saving lives, talking people off the ledge, or providing sage, creative or original life advice. I am not a parent, so parenting-advice shall not be offered. I avoid controversial topics like the plague, I don't have the urge to lead you to the Lord (but he is pretty cool if you are open to the idea), and I have no idea on how to teach, craft, DIY, counsel, or even really advise. But I can repeat what I have learned, I can tell stories, and (sometimes) I can make people laugh. Writing makes me happy. I hope my writing makes you happy. So buckle up, strap in, glue your helmet to your damn head, empty your bladder and do whatever it is that you have to do to prepare for a ride.. a wild ride. A star-studded, bronc bucking, rodeo type of ride... my very favorite type. πŸ’ƒπŸΌ Sunny daze ahead friends, probably. ❀️

2 thoughts on “HOME-aha

  1. What a wonderful story, Sunny Daze. Your mother is your bestie. She’s honest and cares about what’s best for you, not what might be best for her. You are a very lucky woman. Thanks for visiting my blog. I hope you enjoyed yourself and come back. I’m a bestie grandma type. :)/

    Liked by 1 person

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