No Place To Call Home

I grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania. Throughout my growing up, I chafed to get away. It never really felt like "home" to me.

To be fair, I don't know that any place has ever felt like "home" ...at least not in the sense that I hear other people describe their feelings of "home". For me, places are mostly more or less alien. Some places have people that are important to me. Even a few places I've been lucky enough to travel to, I've felt almost immediately comfortable.

On FB, I have connections to several people I grew up with. I guess the biggest thing that the POTUS Trump era has really done is shown me part of why I never really felt at home in the town I grew up. The people I grew up with who all sought lives elsewhere - typically cities - and the people who never left exhibit quite the dichotomy. It feels like I have far more in common with those who left (and the ones who left but came back for various reasons) than the ones who stayed behind.

I don't post on FB much any more - mostly comments on things people have posted on their walls. When reading through others' comments, I pretty much never have to click on people's profiles to see if they are a "one who left" or a "never left". It's pretty much immediately evident in the tone of their commentary ...and it reminds me of why I left. It reminds me of why, when I reach an age where I'm no longer working and no longer able to afford to live where I do, I won't move back "home" but, instead, try to find a more affordable place that isn't quite so alien as places like where I grew up.