Thursday, September 1, 2011

No place like home...




So I'm a on plane flying back to my Home town of Johannesburg and although this plane is shaking and I'm shitting myself, just praying that we land soon – You see I may be frequent flyer but it doesn't make me any less scared of flying.... so anyway I'm on this plane - Aisle 30, Seat C right at the back (there is a little girl to my right who looks exactly like Snooki its frightening) and as the excitement starts building up I cant help but go on that little trip down memory lane.

The adventure that came to be me, Candice, the mommy n daddy's girl - irresponsible, reckless wild child, moving to and surviving in the Mother City all alone. 4 years later I still sometimes cant grasp the reality of the situation. Its almost like your body just goes on auto pilot and you just get safely carried along the path you chose for yourself. Sometimes I feel stupid for allowing myself to pack up my whole life and leave my home for the reasons I did but then I look back at all that I have accomplished in the last 4 years and I cant help but feel so damn proud!

Before I left home I couldn’t boil an egg! Literally! If I was left to fend for myself, I could survive off cup of soup and 2 minute noodles (made in the microwave - might I add) for days.... I had no idea how to do a load of washing and paying bills and getting to bed on time were all somewhat of a challenge to me. My first load of washing, resulted in one pre wash white hoodie that ended up pink post wash, two shrunken vests and an alarming amount of lost socks but all in all it ended better than I woulda thought. My first home cooked meal wasn’t so lucky – Note to all: Trying to make a seafood pasta as your first meal is not really a good idea. (Read: Don't eat it just cos you made it if it doesn’t taste right! - I still cant face a seafood pasta without feeling a bit faint! )

Anyhoo, so unbeknown to me my wicked, wicked family took bets as to how long the lost child would last in Cape Town for. I think the general consensus was roughly 3 months of partying, a possible fleeting romance and then either boredom or a broken heart would steer me back on my route home. Hmmm... well as I said earlier – its been 4 years and still no such luck. Don't get me wrong – I have endured boredom, done a job switcheroo, had my heart broken, made and lost some friendships – (most of them lost back home), I have moved homes 7 times in these four years and shed more tears in this city than I ever could have imagined I was capable. Yet somehow I have this strange connection to my new home. No matter how bad things have got and no matter how much I love my family and friends back home I just cant imagine myself leaving....

After all this place is where I lived in my first little home, the place I crashed my car after 1 too many “I miss home” cocktails, the place I learned to cook my first chicken curry, the place I learned that its okay to spend time on your own with your own thoughts, the place I gained my independence and the place I got to enhance my self expression, its where I fell in love and where I learned sometimes love just isn’t enough, its where I learned that not everything has to be perfect and things don't always work out to a plan. Its the place where I learned that people are not always what you think and who they seem to be. Its where I learned more about what I am capable of as a person and its where I learned that by just being you is okay because as long as you are your best its all you can be and its perfect.

If someone said 4 years ago that I would be the person I am today – I don't think I would have believed them. Call it growing up, and some say, it was inevitable regardless of where I lived but I know in my heart of hearts this is not true. I know that the time spent on my own and the lessons learned all happened the way they were supposed too. I know if I had not broken away from all that I knew and that was comfortable I wouldn’t have been forced to go to the places I went to inside myself.

So as much as I love my home and I am still 100% Joburg n will never let go of the Southern Belle within, I cant help but sit here and smile at how my life has turned out so far. No regrets... If the saying “Home is where the heart is” is true then I have two homes and feel extra super specially blessed!!


Ain't no Burger like a Joburger!!!


3 comments:

  1. Aaaaaah yet another awsie read 2keep me so strangly, completly focused and entertained for that short period of time!! Home is most definantly where the heart is, as u say, you have two homes, CT is YOUR very own home where u experienced so many weird,wonderful and GREAT things hence that happiness and strong connecting toward it. but home in Jhb is that comforting place, the REAL safe place, where family creep back into your heart for that short time that you are back!! its so hard to be independant but in saying that you most definantly proved everyone wrong!! <3

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  2. I really enjoy this post Candz - can relate completely to it, except London instead of Cape Town. But same thoughts nonetheless :)

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  3. I am so proud of you. U have achieved so much without having degrees or endless hours studying! That's my girl

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