I’m coming home. As I walk the last few miles, I know that the girl who will arrive is not the girl who left. I have changed. The scars on my knees from the times I stumbled on the path are testaments that the journey hasn’t been easy. I lost my way more than once. Several times I was tempted to quit. In those moments, when not even the thought of the destination could lead me on, only the strength I borrowed from fellow travelers kept me going. No, it hasn’t been easy.
But was it worth it? Yes. A thousand times yes. For every step I took away from what I knew, I came closer to what I needed to learn. For every time I fell, I discovered another way to get back on my feet. For every wrong turn I took, I found a new means to get back on track. And the people I met along the way – on my palms are invisible imprints of every hand that I clasped. Never again will I underestimate the human capacity to help. But for those who walked with me I never would have made it.
It’s been a very long time. Now I’m coming home.
To stay? Perhaps.
I’m almost there. Wait for me.