I’m in My Feral Era

I was never meant to shrink, to blend, or to fit in.

Crystal Jackson
Publishous

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Photo by Joel Muniz on Unsplash

I’m told that I will never fit in here in this small town where I live. I’m not the same. Neither from the town or from a family with a name as old as time, I will always be an outsider.

I don’t agree. I know that my family name has no meaning here — yet. I know that my lack of ancient roots in this town will have some people seeing me forever as a transplant. Yet, I have made my place. I was never meant to shrink, to blend, or to fit in. I was always meant to make my own space and to hold it, to grow strong roots and yet rise up toward the sun.

I am not interested in fitting in.

I am not looking to make myself into a carbon copy of everyone who lives here already. Nor am I looking to carelessly embody the rebel, bucking tradition only for the sake of doing so. I, like many people I know, have come into my feral era. I am re-wilding, returning to my most authentic self in joyous homecoming.

The curious part is that it all evolved from trusting my instincts. After years of doubting myself, I began to place my faith in what I feel. I started to structure my life not by what I thought it would be but by what I began to see that it could be if I allowed it. I started opening up to new ways of living and…

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