Recently Kevin and I got new luggage and so I was cleaning out our old stuff, everything has broken zippers, holes and rips. Most of it is ten or more years old and has served us well over the years. A few pieces hold memories. Most of the memories attached are better held in the pictures taken of the journey or a blog post I've written. But this bag is different. It's different because it's the last piece that I own from my life before.
Do you remember the place you became your own person?
A person separate from your family. With your own individual thoughts and held accountable for your actions on your own merit. The place where you were there for you and your family could no longer help you if you screwed it up?
That place was L.A. School of Hair Design when I was 17 years old. Fresh out of high school, hating the confines of the area I grew up, I fled two hours away to a place the adults in my life deemed safe for me to go. I am not sure what they expected of me, but I am fairly certain they weren't expecting the path I choose. I met people insanely different from me, with different believes, different lifestyles, and so much more. Eight and a half months of time spent with dozens of girls who challenged me in ways I did not expect. A few of those girls signed my bag for me and I find it ironic that the thing written the most was how “cute” I was. What a strange creature I must have been to those girls.
This bag is from the time before I was my own person. Over the years I have slowly gotten rid of everything before. Clothes, jewelry are all gone and now there are only three pieces left. My graduation quilt and knitted blanket and this bag. The bag that doesn’t have much usefulness as everything gets lost in it and it’s one big disorganized mess. Sometimes I wish I could go back and tell that little girl from my past that it would be okay because she was not okay then. I’m thankful for the memories from those 8 months. Finding my people was huge and while I am in contact with very few of the girls today, one of them did introduce me to Kevin and that put me on the path to who I am today. I like who I am and as I take this bag to goodwill, I’m happy to let those memories rest and continue to look towards the future.
I’m curious though, if you hold onto objects like this, that have no value except the sentimental type?
I'm a lifestyle blogger, covering deep subjects including body images, battles with food, and overcoming how I was raised. I try to be as authentic as possible and I don’t sugar coat how I see things.