This Summer is different than most. I laugh every time I load up my car with a weekend bag and catch a glimpse of my license plate: nomad. Nomad, indeed. I’m officially branded; from my blog name to the dainty tattoo on my right wrist and even my license plate. It’s been a term that has felt most comfortable when describing myself. What I stand for. Or perhaps the things I don’t. And while I have a physical home that I adore, it’s the people and the way I feel when I’m with them, that makes me feel the most at ease. For many years, home meant being with him. Now, home, is me. I’m learning that that, is enough. The definition of home is a reinterpreted concept as of late- open for discussion as most weekends I spend afternoons at the pool with my dad and shopping with my aunt; nights at my best friend’s as we grill with her adorable little family and most evenings cuddling with Palmer. Home is also on the road; wandering the streets of Athens, lost deep in thought, quietly nestled right under the Acropolis and yet buzzing with life. It always amazes me, truly, how thousands of years sits in the midst of the present day. Ancient and modern. The juxtaposition that ebbs and flows as one. And yet, it always makes sense. Fits together perfectly like a puzzle. How you can possibly know where you’re going if you don’t know where you came from? The layers of our past, eroded by time, heartbreak, mistakes and perhaps even regret, have shaped us into our present day self. Those layers are what make us interesting, with a history to tell. The imperfections, the memories are yet another layer to add to our story…or our dress.
Photos by Jennifer Coffey Photography
