Last week, I was in North Carolina for my sister-in-law's wedding, where I was the officiant. North Carolina reminds me of Missouri and Goldsboro is like an entire childhood I spent an extraordinary amount of energy escaping.
Let me quite clear: North Carolina is objectively beautiful. I think a lot of people are happy living there. But when I see dogwood flowers blooming, my eye starts twitching a little.
Did you know that North Carolina's state flower is Missouri's state tree? I have a whole poem about that now.
And we all know that Missouri recalls my father, who hasn't responded to the email I sent 7 weeks ago and who didn't call my brother after he almost died in a car wreck.
A sudden happening: my body is on edge with anger. And the man completely decked out from head to toe in Affliction Clothing, seemingly judging me and the people I love, is getting dangerously close to meeting the Missouri Ozarks. I have to talk to myself when this happens. Tell my body it's ok. Tell my soul that I will not be tethered to this place. This man does not matter. He will never matter. And this place is just a place.
Weird things happen at weddings. Triggers are no one's burden but my own. It's how I respond to the trigger that is important. Curiosity about why I feel anxious or on-edge has proven to be the best way through for me.
