This week I am very honored to say that The Sassy Steel Magnolia has been taken over by the incredibly talented, amazingly inspiring , always entertaining, fellow friend, blogger and SSM, Angie Mizzell. You may remember when she asked me a few questions for one of her posts back in June or maybe you’ve heard me mention my Writing Yoda — that’s her, one in the same.
This week she’s giving us a glimpse into the journey she herself traveled on that (sometimes) long road to home. They say home is where the heart is, or home is where you lay your hat — but the real home — the home you feel most comfortable, safe, unafraid of your vulnerability — is the home you were born with, grew up with and live with each and everyday. At times we get lost or take a little longer than expected but always, always we return to the comforts of our own home.
So take a few moments and relax as Angie takes us down her road & reveals one of her secret sides..
In my late 20’s I was the morning anchor at a television station in Charleston, “the hometown girl done good.” I had all the things I had strived for up to that point… a successful career, great husband, new construction home. I was living and working in a city I loved, the place I grew up.
But I was far from home. I felt lost and unhappy, and I didn’t know exactly why. Sure, I was tired. The morning shift was tough. My husband, also in TV, worked on the opposite end of the clock. Some mornings, he was coming home as my alarm was going off. And each day, I put on the suit and the makeup and pushed the deadline. I always made my slot, turning “on” at the count of 3-2-1, and I did my job well.
For many years I told people, “I can’t imagine doing anything else.” Then one day, I started to wonder. Is this really what I’m supposed to be doing with my life? That question terrified me. I wasn’t supposed to be asking that question. I had already come so far. Wasn’t it time to start living happily ever after?
Despite my efforts to wrap my life into a perfect little bow, on the inside I was a tangled mess.
Around that time, my husband was offered a job in Portland, Oregon, and we agreed he should take it. The job needed him ASAP, so he went ahead of me. I’ll never forget the morning I stood on the sidewalk and watched him drive away. His Jeep Wrangler faded into the distance, and I turned back towards our brand new house. I took a picture of it in my mind.
Within two months, I had quit my job, sold our house, said dozens of goodbyes. Finally, all the boxes were loaded. I climbed up into the moving truck and drove away.
There’s something about driving a really large vehicle across the country with all your personal belongings stuffed in the back (did I mention I was also towing my Hyundai?) that brings you to a whole new level of awareness. For me, perhaps, it was the very real possibility of running over a compact car or flying off the side of a mountain.
On the road, I felt awake, in control. With my hands on the steering wheel, admiring the changing landscape as I crossed each state line, I was fully present. I wasn’t afraid. I can do this. My heart was heavy, but I did not cry. I wasn’t crushed by my emotions; they simply moved through me.
My destination was Portland, but beyond that, I didn’t really have a plan.
No plan. Seriously? I had been in forward motion since my senior year of college. The internship. The first producer job. Convincing the boss to give me a shot on air. Getting the anchor desk. Getting married. Buying the house.
I had a few interviews set up, but the truth was (psst… don’t tell anyone) I didn’t really want a job. I really wanted to take a break. And I did take a break, which is a whole other story which involves lots of trips to Starbucks, self-help books, too many infomercials and some unfortunate incidents with hair dye. Scratch cosmetologist off my list of many talents.
Anyway, the point of the story is this: On the road, stripped of all the outward markers of my identity, I got a glimpse of her– the authentic side of myself. The one who’s willing to shed the façade, the need to “appear” successful and what other people think. The one who can drive a big ass truck across the country.
I had been so busy building a career and a life that looked good on paper that I had forgotten to stay in touch with her. We were best friends, back when we were kids. She knew me better than anyone. She was creative and carefree and was lots of fun to be around. She had a kind heart and wanted the best for people, and for herself. She knew what was truly important in life.
My journey eventually took me full circle– back to Charleston. But today, I can tell you I’m truly at home. Whenever I feel lost, I remember to connect with that girl on the road.
Then I remember that she is me.
I want to say a huge Thank You to Angie – you are indeed the epitome of a Sassy Steel Magnolia and we are honored to have you here on the site. Such a great story, mixed with your usual humorous undertones, makes for an incredible and inspiring story for all to read. We can’t wait till you get your Memoirs written and we can bug you for a signed copy…hint..hint ;)
For more great stories from Angie head on over to her site: …under the MAC and stay tuned for her Music Snack selection, coming up tomorrow.
