hometown hero

hello from me and my can of trader joes corn i just ate.

this week, i want to talk about (ok, i don’t really want to talk about it, but it wants to be discussed through me, so here we go) what it’s been like since moving home and being integrated into a social structure of people i once knew. well, that doesn’t exactly sum it up, so let’s get into it.

i left nola as soon as i graduated from college. really, at the end of that calendar year, but i was traveling back and forth a lot in the interim— i had a long distance boyfriend just a few hours away. it was a nice way to start the new chapter.

before that, in my college years, my social life consisted of my handful of best friends, and our activities included the likes of park dates and cooking dinner for each other. at the ripe old age of 29 i could probably have counted the amount of times i went to a bar or club on my two hands since the age of 21. this was a choice, of course. i’m a sunshine baby.

i had no ties to my old life (other than my besties of course). i would have never run into an x fling, not on social media or a house party. once instagram came on the map, i was already deeply intrenched in a long term partnership, and the guy was from out of state, therefore no x lovers or flings were on my radar. we weren’t even mutuals. we simply weren’t in the same circles anymore. a ghost of my ancestor got more air time with me than the dude i messed around with in high school.

leaving nola was an easy choice. explore new city-scapes, have more access to nature and enjoy the perks of cities that have better natural groceries than wholefoods (shoutout natural grocers vitamin cottage!!). telling my parents hurt a bit, especially my dad who didn’t even have a smart phone or know how to text at the time, but they understood my drive to explore.

moving back was a decision to support my family during a big transition, and i know in my heart and spirit i had ties of my own to take care of here. immediately upon returning there was a shift in my social life. one that makes things like posting my little weekly essays sometimes feel challenging.

you see, i have been here before. writing for the masses (the people on my instagram page who see my posts lol). i even have bought ads before so my essays get more reach. gosh, that feels like a lifetime ago. except, before, my social media community was like-minded spiritual girlies who really wanted to see me win and explore these topics with me, too.

after a bit of traveling post break up with my long term x, i landed back in nola. suddenly single, i was so excited to shake ass and post thirst traps, so sue me, ok! the pendulum swings. the problem is, in those days, i think i ostracized some of my core social media community. they were expecting rumi quotes, and now spirit was being sprinkled in amongst bikini pics. in this transitional time, i also attracted the gaze of more men. listen, i’m all bark, no bite, but it was fun to be recognized for being a hottie cutie with a booty, yah.

with this influx of men, more locals came in. many girls, friends of friends, community members of people i once was. i was trying to figure out how to live in my home town, single, for the first time in over a decade. it’s not like these people were my fans, i followed them too. we exchanged occasional likes and carried on.

being seen as hot is fun, but my favorite shit in the whole entire world is holy beauty. art, sunshine, prayer. my swing from poetry to thirst traps gave me whiplash. i had to break my new high of being perceived as sexy and readapt into the realm i’m most comfortable in, the heavenly dimension. forward facing with heart, where i feel most safe, was not fun for the ego, but living in finite reflections is not home.

over time, as the balance between hot selfies and pslams equalized themselves within, i found that i felt embarrassed to post my deep thoughts. maybe i’m being judged. as if this, these words, right now, are being judged. but why?

ok, i think maybe i know. are you ready? there’s a vulnerability to being in a space where your roots go deep. people i have once loved, deeply, are here. those who i have hurt and who hurt me exist amongst this landscape. this city, these streets, they are the crime scenes for my deepest griefs. ya know? like standing in the middle of jackson square naked reading my poetry at the top of my lungs will feel more fulfilling, yet painful, than doing this in the middle of pearl street in boulder.

now that a nola community, old and new, is part of my social media friends, on a spiritual and psychological level, i am a bit more naked, a lot more known, and radically more seen. i don’t know, maybe it’s all in my head. but i don’t think so. i feel that walking down the street and seeing people who know you for who you once were, going to a restaurant and running into someone who has felt how deeply you loved their friend many moons ago, or partying at a live show and bumping into someone that was almost someone, all while imagining that they could know some of your deepest heart strings from your art is a bit scary. i mean, i’m not saying i’m brave, gosh, bravery would be sharing the stories of heart break and victory from my very real experiences (not yet), but i am giving myself a little hug, because this shit can be hard.

maybe what i am saying is, we can’t be tethered to the way we are perceived.

regardless of who catches a glimpse of me, or who’s watching the whole scene unfold, i am trying to stay anchored into who i truly am; not perform, or in contrast, become smaller. perhaps the best, only real rule of life is to keep our hearts open. my prayer for me, and you, is that we live this beautiful life in a way that lights up our hearts and souls. create the art, share the stories, smile, laugh, cry, grieve; and hopefully, amongst is all, we’re holding hands with those who we love, and truly love us along the way. i think there are way more friends out there than enemies. let’s be friends? yeah?

wait wait wait! there’s one more thing i want to share. so i saw this tweet that said sometimes along the lines of “if you’re being cringe, that means you’re being authentic to yourself.” omgsh, there’s so much to unpack here, but if you’re anything like me, maybe you need to sit with it a while, too.

ok, i love you so so much.

carly yolanda trujillo