My spring break was alright. I have a strained relationship with my family, but I enjoyed the time I spent with my dogs. I crashed after I drove home — it took me about twelve hours. But once I was rested, I made the most of being back.

I dropped by my favorite taco shop and did some shopping in the historical district of McKinney, which has been one of my favorite places in North Texas since I was 12. I spent several hours running on the trails I grew up exploring on weekends. I read a book and sunbathed in the fields at the city parks I used to play in as a kid. I did schoolwork nestled into a corner of the library near my house, the one I’ve carried a card for since I was in middle school.

And on the Thursday of spring break, I parked my sister’s car (mine was broken) in a faraway lot and walked down the streets of K Avenue in the historic downtown of Plano to get a new tattoo; it was important to me that I get this one in Texas. A little more than an hour later, I walked out again with a fresh bluebonnet on my arm and went to get some pastries at a local coffeeshop. 

I’ve heard Texas described as one of those states that you either love or hate, which seems fair enough. Personally, I miss my hometown every day that I’m not there — it’s warmer weather, better food and a rich culture that shaped who I’ve become. Given the necessary resources, I can’t imagine choosing to live anywhere else. 

But life isn’t as idealistic as I can be, and I don’t have those necessary resources yet. That means that I’ve been trying to strike a balance between loving where I come from and building a life so far away. 

I obviously live in Des Moines during the school year. But as I’m making plans to stay here when I don’t necessarily have to — to work, to live and to stay — I’m increasingly confronted with the reality that, for my own security, I need to be here more than I need to be where my heart is. 

I have a lot of goals. I want to travel the world and learn several languages. I want to have my writing published and be a bestselling author. I play with the idea of law school or a master’s degree. I maintain that my dream job is Secretary of State or United Nations ambassador.

I don’t know how I’m going to make all of those happen, but I do know that for now, Des Moines can position me for the kind of stability and flexibility that I currently need in my life. I have college and the support that Drake University offers. I have a job and plans for the future. I have a support network and my backup plans.

Sometimes, it hurts to be so far from home. I don’t miss my family, but I miss the familiarity and comfort of the city that raised me. When the Iowa weather gets bitterly cold, or I spend late nights walking the streets around campus, I can’t help but wish I were somewhere else. But I know, without a doubt, that I’m making the right choice to be in Des Moines right now.

And now, I have a bluebonnet on my arm. The bluebonnet is the state flower of Texas; growing up, they decorated the street medians and city parks every spring. They’re gorgeous, but to me, it’s more than a pretty flower. It’s a reminder of where I come from and a symbol of hope. I may not be home, but I’ll always have home. Where I’m from is part of who I am.

While I still haven’t found a taco in Des Moines that even approaches the magic of my local shop, I’ll keep searching. Even though I prefer my trails, I’m slowly learning new running routes. And although I have no use for my Plano Public Library card here in Des Moines, it’s still in my wallet wherever I go.