Back To My Roots
It all started in a coffee shop—the kind of romance you only lovingly receive from yourself, with help from those around you. The slow, early mornings of soft jazz in the background, the comfortably dim lighting that made way for dawn's breaking, the all-encompassing scent of freshly brewed joe and pastries... This was my life for a year and a half; my most transformational year and a half to date. Clinging to self-doubt and introspection, I blossomed through and through within these four walls. Countless crying fits in the reading nook, several irritated bursts misplaced at my superiors, and the kind of laughter that hurt your insides while tears stream down your face from joy. The amount of laughter had here in just eighteen months could fill Soldier Field. I subconsciously radiated with youth here. I watched as so many others encountered this very same phenomena—pure silliness pouring from our mannerisms, random dance sessions with my colleagues, and the way we’