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I don't think it is a secret that I would love to return to New York and that in a heartbeat I would leave Barbados.  In an effort to be positive about my life and my future, I want to say that I do not hate Barbados, but I do not want to live there and probably would not have a problem if I were never able to visit again, unless of course, one of my friends living there invited me for a fabulous week at her home.  I am also, not delusional about what life is really like in New York and I know that my adult stint as Eloise in the Plaza is soon to come to an end and should we return, that fantasy would not come with me. 


New York is busy and exhausting and cramped.  It can be difficult with two children and not just in navigating, but in the expense of educating and entertaining them.  Only the strong survive in New York and we remind ourselves of that every day.  There just isn't enough room for all the people here to express themselves and stretch out, so we fight for space or just fight.  I know it.  This year in Barbados has given all of us the chance to breathe and stretch out in a marvelous home with a beautiful garden.  But I would take the Big A any day.


I can work here.  In Barbados, with no work visa, there is really no legal way for me to earn a legitimate wage.  Visiting with my agency this afternoon, I missed my work and the process and energy it generates.  I miss the people involved in creating.  They are interesting and talented and irreverent and funny and intelligent and I don't apologize for myself when I am with them.  I just am. 


I know New York is different even than the rest of the United States, it being one of a few cities in America where an interracial, bicultural, artistic, intellectual couple with two lovely children can flourish.  But I must confess that I am exhausted by the stares and comments we experience every day in Barbados.  I once went to a party in New York, years ago, where Halle Berry was the hostess.  All guests were asked not to make direct eye contact with her unless she spoke first.  I thought this was outrageous!  Outrageously funny and then outrageously sad.  I thought, "Who IS this woman?  Who does she think she is?  We cannot even look at her?"  But when I saw her that evening, my mouth dropped to the floor.  She was stunning.  It was all I could do, all anyone could do really, to avoid staring at her!  I imagined how it must feel for her to have people just watching her breathe every day of her life. 


I'm no Halle Berry, but I understand the sensation of feeling all eyes on you all the time.  There is no freedom.  Every brush on the shoulder, every whispered or shouted word, every smile, wink, sigh considered and judged.  It can be exhausting and put unnecessary strain on a couple.  And a couple that is struggling as we are, with the distance long work hours, depression, and exhaustion has wrought, really cannot support itself under that weight. 

I have not idealized New York in my heart or mind, nor do I think it is the only place on earth where we belong.  But that is exactly what I am searching for.  Belonging.  Home.  Maybe I have been doing that all my life.  Searching for a place of comfort, a place where I can be me in all my incarnations and not be judged.  Where I can be at peace with myself when the lonely, crazy thoughts and dreams and machinations begin.  Home.  Where I am the mommy and an artist, an actress, a writer, a creator and I am loved and can love.


(c) copyright 2010. Citymominthejungle