Pause

Someone recently asked me if I like living in Katy.

And...

Well...

I hesitated before answering "yes."

BLARGH. I feel so guilty! I feel like my poor suburbia home was standing right there behind me about to say "hi!" and then overheard and turned away shedding a single tear (not that I would ever personify a city or anything). I feel like Olaf should have popped up next to me to jab a pointed stick arm in my face and screamed "you hesitated!"

Because... I hesitated. It was the briefest of pauses. But it was there. Yep, there it was. It was one of those just long-enough-to-notice pauses before my saying "yeah!" And I feel insanely guilty about it. I LOVE living in Katy. And yet, I hesitated.

I'm sure that the other person (Marriott, a classmate I hadn't seen in years) took it to be a statement on how I feel about my current hometown. It wasn't that at all. It was actually a pause to wonder how my "yes" would reflect upon me.

Ugh! Oh no! That might make me feel even worse. Oh, poor Katy suburbia, why must I continue to deny you?

But, the thing is, when we lived in DC (Alexandria to be exact - hellllooo Americana Quaintsville!) it was easy to proclaim our love for the area in which we lived. We fit there. It was diverse. It had seasons, real seasons for Pete's sake! We spent weekends at Smithsonian museums or trips exploring the east coast. People ask(ed) me how I like(d) living there and I shout(ed) "LOV(ED) IT!" before the question even leaves their lips.

And then we moved to Austin. And we lived in Austin proper. It was funky and eclectic. We went hiking and exploring and enjoyed life in another fabulously unique and diverse city. And once again, I fit in there and proclaiming my love for my city felt just fine. I was totally okay with saying I loved it there because of what that said about me.

I'm not someone who cares a whole lot about what other people think of me. But the thing with that is this: I do care that other people not misunderstand me. It bothers me when people assume things about me that aren't true. If they don't like the truth about me then that's fine... but when people think things about me that aren't true (even if they like it or agree) ugghh that gets under my skin.

So what does it tell the other person when I now announce that I love living in Houston burbs? I'm only living 80something miles from where we grew up. Do they then assume that I am a Texas cliche through and through? okay... I just typed out a list of what I think that looks like... and then deleted it so as to not offend the masses. If you haven't lived outside of Texas... we don't always look that great from outside our state. I'm an expert as I've lived in a whopping two other states one of which for a few months (that was snark in case you didn't catch it).

*sigh*

So, yeah, I paused.

Had we still lived in either of those other places I would have felt perfectly comfortable telling this old classmate that I loved living there. Because that fits in line with who I see myself to be. This girl doesn't know me at all. We haven't seen or talked to one another in about fifteen years. So, telling her that I love Katy was going to be one small slice of identity. Who is Casey now? Someone that lives and loves suburbia Tejas.

Is that me?

When we moved to Katy I met like one person my age who didn't wear sweatpants with a word across the buttocks and have big bleached out hair and bedazzled everything (and thankfully she quickly befriended me, hi Katie!). To be honest I was a little shell shocked by all of the... well... not Austin or DCness of the place.

And then we began to get settled in. We started meeting people at church and school. I got involved with the Y. I met people in our neighborhood. I became one of the regulars at our grocery store. We added another nugget to our household. And we found that Katy fits pretty damn well. We love everyone we've met here... including the previously prejudged-by-Casey-bedazzled. We've made friends (great friends!) and a life for ourselves. It's a life that is... well, it screams in fact... SUBURBIA!

We love Katy for its people. We love its small town feel and proximity to "tha big bayou city" (also said in a weird made up cajun country accent). Our church in Katy (which you clergy fams know has a big impact on life) is my favorite church of any church I've ever attended (which would be a total of six churches plus this one). We love love love the life we have here in Katy.

Evidently, as I learned about myself last week, Katy (the suburb) is like some strange ugly crush that I'm trying to keep secret. I didn't realize that about myself.

But here's the other thing it made me realize: anyone could love living in a diverse interesting exciting place. What does loving Katy say about me? Maybe it doesn't scream that I love guns. Maybe it doesn't say that I hate people of other race or religions. Perhaps it doesn't tell people that I prefer trash to recycling. Maybe it doesn't tell people any of those things... because I am none of those things. Perhaps it just says that I bloom where I'm planted. Hopefully, it tells people that I am willing to embrace where I am. Hopefully the next time I'm asked I won't pause before answering. I'll believe that saying "yes!" tells them that I see the good in any place and love meeting new people and sinking my roots deep into whatever soil we happen to be in.

And, hell, let's face it: evidently I'm suburbia. Did you see the list? {I love my church, my kids' preschool, my grocery store, and the ymca?} shit. I might as well sell the Prius for a minivan covered in stick figures right now. I guess I AM a stay-home-mom wearing reindeer pajama pants writing a blog for no one at 5 in the morning while I drink coffee and listen to whatever critter has now taken up residence in our attic. Hmph. The attic critter is probably wearing pjs, drinking coffee, and writing a more interesting blog than me. Well, just as long as its not smoking anything up there. Although... smoking a pipe with an attic critter miiiigghhttt make life in suburbia more interesting...

Wait... I'm a suburban "pastor's wife, mother, and housewife" - why didn't I realize that?!?!

Man, one stupid pause and my whole image of my interesting eclectic self is shot. Totally shot. Damn it Marriott! I blame her.