On Sunday morning, I woke up to a vengeful headache and a queasy stomach. When I opened my eyes my children were already crawling under the covers from all directions. I had a hangover from partying too hard with my younger brother and cousin. It felt like my past and my present were now touching.

It has been years since I have gone out for the express purpose of dancing and drinking. Circumstances and old friends have allowed me two occasions where I have been able to experience it again. My younger brother and cousin came to visit and I went to an old friends’ wedding in New Orleans. I have found that there are a few things about me that may never change.

When given the opportunity to pack for only myself I apparently lose all track of time and plan for double the amount of clothing that would be considered practical, with shoes and accessories to match. I love it when my girlfriends from high school call me “Tashi”. It reminds me of when I was fifteen and they needed to borrow a pair of earrings. I still find it necessary to consult the nearest girl on my wardrobe choices.

Dancing can be as soothing to my soul as sitting in Church.

When the partying is over, I am happy to come home and cuddle up next to my husband. I wake up to the goodness that is my stable, safe life and I am grateful. It’s comforting to know that I am still the same girl in a different place. I love that I have friends from my wild days that will love me for a lifetime. I have found the place where I fit and there is still room to grow into the space we have made for ourselves.

Drinks anyone?



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