Running away to home

I needed to get away. So, I did.

I could've taken off to Vegas. Maybe I should've just made a short drive to Santa Barbara or San Diego. Or perhaps a quick flight to San Francisco for the weekend may have been a better option. 

But none of that felt right. I missed my family, I missed the ocean, I missed the sand, I missed the warm air and the tropical rains...so I came home.

I've come to realize that when I get too jaded or stressed I tend to turn to happy things from my childhood. Maybe a lot of people do this, but I do it ALL the time. I think maybe it's a mid-twenties thing of not exactly feeling like an adult. Twenty five is a funny age...we're all just trying to find our maturity and what it means; figuring out our responsibilities. So far 25 has been my favorite to be.

Last week however I had a childish moment when I booked a last minute flight to Hawai'i. I literally ran away. I didn't think about it. I was tired, I was sad, I was emotional...so of course the "adult" thing to do was to run away for seven days. 

I came back to my roots. To the place that has always made me feel the happiest and has always made me feel at home. Although I grew up in Los Angeles and I can't get over how much I love California...Hawai'i will always be a place of comfort and peace. The minute I get off the plane, no matter how long it's been, I remember everything and can run around this tiny island like I never left.

It can't be a bad thing to run away when it makes you feel so much better. :-)







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