3/10

Home is not a place for me. Well, that’s not entirely true… it is a place, but that place is defined be the people that are in it. Home consists of family, and my family has grown (even if it kind of shrank last year).

Friday I attempted to fly home for a long weekend visit. I arrived at the airport at my originally planned time even though there was a one hour delay for my flight. I made my way through security without much issue. My sunglasses did get broken going through the x-ray machine. I guess that should have been a sign that things were going to go sideways. But I placed them on my face, took a selfie and had a good laugh before I threw away the now lens-less plastic frames.

I made my way to the gate but still had more than an hour before I would need to worry about lining up to board so I went for a walk in search of a meal. I paid airport prices for some Outback cheesy bacon fries, a couple of cans of Monster, and 2 bottles of water. After I finished my “meal” I got the notification that my flight was delayed… again. Now instead of arriving just before 8 like I was originally supposed to, I was going to land closer to 10. So I took a walk to kill time.

I walked the length of the terminal and back. I don’t know how many steps I took, I don’t know how long of a walk it was. But it worked out most of my nervous body energy that was being fueled by the energy drink I had with my meal. Eventually the plane arrived, the passengers left the plane and eventually we were allowed to board. But we never took off. We sat on that plane for 20 minutes and then they reattached the jet bridge and opened the door but wouldn’t let passengers off because we would “have to leave without them” according to the flight attendant.

We sat that way for longer than it would have taken to fly to my destination. It was 9pm before we were informed that the flight was cancelled. I was distraught, the spur of the moment plans that I had so been looking forward to was hanging in the balance… Do I rebook at the evening flight time for the next day or do I cancel and try my luck with another airline. After much discussion, I rebooked my flight for the following evening, and repacked my bag because what I had was realistically too heavy for my back and my arms… and MAYBE for the straps of the bag.

The next day I repacked my back again… because it’s how I manage travel anxiety, and then I resolved to buying a legitimate carry-on suitcase, because air travel seems to be something I’m participating in more and more frequently. I bought a suitcase and I replaced my sunglasses that had been destroyed by the x-ray machine on my way through security the day before.

I spent the day with my mother, catching up from her more than a week away and trying to make it so that my few days away don’t feel as desolate for her. And while she doesn’t fully know what is going on, I’m trying to give her grace to learn… which is important, but I also need to understand that it is a slow process for some people to learn new things. It is especially difficult for some people to learn things that seem contrary to everything they have known through their life.

When I arrived back at the airport and went through security my bag got flagged and put to the side for a search. Internally I had a mini panic attack, immediately going through a mental checklist of all the things I have in my bag. Nothing I had should have grabbed their attention, but outwardly… I was just waiting for my shoes to come through the x-ray machine. The TSA officer that brought my bin over to the search point pulled up the image of my items for a moment as he fished out some gloves, he stopped pulling at the gloves embedded in the cardboard box and looked at me. He proceeded to give me a thumbs up, I thanked him and collected my belongings from that tray before retrieving the tray with my shoes from the conveyor. When I got into the terminal I checked to see what gate I needed to be at and then headed the other direction to get some pizza to take on the plane with me.

When I eventually made my way to my gate and claimed a seat, I got a notification that there was another delay. No explanation, no details, just “this is your new departure and arrival times”. I got to talking with my fellow passengers, some of whom were on the same flight the day before. We commiserated over the frustration of unplanned travel changes and what we had to do individually to accommodate for the fact that we weren’t making it to our destinations as intended. I was the only person local to Detroit that I talked to, and because everyone else wasn’t local and the airline wasn’t giving hotel vouchers for a weather related cancellation, I was the only one that didn’t have to find a local hotel.

We finally boarded the plane, everyone was seated, they closed the door, and we were on our way. The flight itself was uneventful, the multi-attempt landing though was something I’ve not before experienced and don’t wish to experience again. And the lack of communication from the pilot after aborting our initial approach AFTER the wheels had already touched the ground only added to the anxiety around the landing. When we circled back around and attempted to land, it felt like we were coming in sideways once we were on the ground… and like we were coming in WAY too hot. When we finally came to a stop on the runway most of the passengers applauded and someone on the other side of the plane and back a row said something implying that most if not all of the people on that flight likely wouldn’t be flying Frontier ever again. And honestly, with this being my first experience with Frontier… I’m not at all impressed.

Having finally arrived, the ordeal was over. Balance restored, I could breathe again. Embraces, and sleep. Over the following days… Much discussion, understanding and connection being built, evolving, growing. Soothing, being soothed. Peace. Giving and receiving care. Explaining, learning, asking, communicating. Creating foundations and making plans. Any more would be telling too much, even this might be too much but its what I’m willing to risk sharing.

Prior to getting on the flight Saturday night, I had made an adjustment to my return trip to extend it by a day to compensate for the cancelled flight on Friday. And if it weren’t for the fact that my child is now returning on the night of my return trip, I would heavily consider extending my stay by another day or two… but obligations require my attention and obligations in relation to my child are ones that I’m most inclined to bend to. Though the fact of the matter is that I’m not ready to leave, even after spending 3 full days and 2 partial days, I’m still not ready to leave. I don’t know that I would ever be “ready” to leave. I think there would be emotional benefit in me staying longer, but there will be time.

I exist in an almost constant state of music consumption, sometimes it shapes my mood and other times it echoes it, a soundtrack from a blip in my life.

The unexpected, but welcome, variables of sharing a sleeping space with anyone, because its been so long that I’ve forgotten what that entails.

Sharing of blankets, sharing of space, sleeping habits, medical needs, snoring, my issue of regulating my body temperature, etc.

On top of navigating the building of emotional connection as well as physical interaction, in an intimate setting.

The most exquisite exploration of emotion and sensuality and discovery of desire… an emotion I thought was lost to me.

A connection being nurtured, that I never want to neglect. I don’t want my intentions to be misinterpreted, I’m striving to express my commitment. Missteps hurt, but challenges are something you work through together even when its difficult. Figuring out what moving forward looks like, what changes need to be made and what needs to be understood so that doesn’t happen again. And learning what healthy communication and NOT being the emotional regulator for another really looks like.

Love has always felt like sacrifice, I’m learning how wrong that was.

About the Author

I am Sarah, a late blooming queer individual exploring my past experiences through introspection and internal work as well as talking to others and having conversations that lead to further thought experiments. This is an evolution of being in real time.

I’ve written heavily on the grief of losing my father suddenly and how that has resulted in my transformation, and the grief of losing my friend and brother to cancer. I’m writing more recently on my experiences and realizations and incorporating some DIY and hobby content where I can.

Thank you for reading 🙂

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