Running Away

Bye Bye

I’m leaving Minnesota in less than 3 months. It was decided a couple months ago after weeks of debate with my partner. Where did we want to go? We could go anywhere. Not everywhere as we didn’t have the funds for that, but, we really could choose anywhere in the world to live. 

The excitement. The dread. I faltered between the two.

My partner and I settled upon California. When we tell people of this decision, they mention the hot weather. I think about swimming, and all the national parks. They mention the wildfires and that many people are leaving California. I think about the fun to be had and the fact that I’ll be in the farm to fork Capital of the Nation. My mother asked if I was crazy. “No, I'd just like to travel.” She said if I keep moving around so much, I’ll never settle down. “That’s okay,” I replied. She sighed and told me she’ll talk to me in person when she comes back to Minnesota. 

I moved out of my parent’s home 7 months ago, a few days after my graduation party. I had told my mother that I would move out soon prior, I had told her that I am not staying in Minnesota for the rest of my life either for that matter. As with most things, I don’t think she took me seriously. I don't think people do for the fact that I’m mild mannered and nothing bold is expected of me. When I told my siblings that my partner and I had settled on moving to Sacramento my mother called me a few days later and asked if I were stupid. I had already made a big mistake by moving in with my boyfriend, something she was strongly against. I would be making an even greater mistake by moving away. With the planning process in order, I told her that I would be moving.

She texted me, “Your dad said you better stop, you better not go to California.” It’s strange, even though I’ve moved out, I still feel so much pressure from my parents though they barely reside in Minnesota, it was the thing I was trying to run away from. And here I was, getting anxious and scared. I felt like a child. Children hide things away from people. And I don’t want to hide my cross country move from my family. Another part of me feels that it’s okay to just pack up and leave without giving my parents too much time to process my move. It’s not as though I played a significant role in the family system. My parent’s lived in Oklahoma. My eldest brother was living with his fiancé 30 minutes away. My eldest sister had two children and her own home with her husband. My youngest sister is finishing high school. And my other 2 older brothers were taking care of my younger sister in the home that we all grew up in.

We all had our own lives. And I was determined to leave this place, for if I didn’t, I would truly die here. I’d grow accustomed to the beautiful farmers market, grow to love sitting on the balcony of my apartment where the large tree provided optimal shade during sunny days, and build a good career here that I would love. I would love Minnesota so much, and I do love Minnesota so much, but I can always go back. I don’t always have enough time though. Not enough time  to explore new avenues, to see new places, to meet new people. So I’m making a bold move. One that my parent’s may resent me for, but it’s a consequence I’m okay with. 

I want a beautiful life, and that’s what I'll get. 

I view the things that I do now as “the last time.” I reminisced on childhood memories. I don’t know if I'm just a romantic who has idealized nostalgia as a fake sort of drama to add to this cross country move, or if I’m really just sad. 

I wake up to the birds chirping at the window and soak in the light that comes in when I wake. I pray that the next place I call home feels as safe and secure as this apartment. I believe it is because of the large tree that hangs over my balcony, so I pray for a nice tree. I walk and bike around the trails my mother and aunts used to force me to walk each summer as a child and I tell my partner about the sights that pique a short story. 

This one summer, we found 3 dead squirrels here. My brother and cousin moved one with a stick and put it under that bush.

A group of Hmong boys asked my mom if my younger sister and I had Facebook over here.

There were a lot of Christian people passing out fliers and trying to pray for me. I was really annoyed by them pestering me (I was in middle school) so this one time a man came up to me and I pretended I couldn’t understand him. ‘I don't know how to speak English’ I said in Hmong with my heavy American accent trailing behind. He says, ‘If you don’t want to talk to me, you can just say that.’ He stormed off. My younger cousin and sister burst out laughing. 

I tell him I’ll miss Minnesota. And that one time I almost choked on a butter hard candy whilst waiting outside for my Hmong class, we drive by that building every once in a while.