Finding Momentum

Justin and I on move-in day.

I had a hard time accept­ing it, but I finally have to admit that I’m afraid to live in my new neighborhood.

We found out the other day that our place was robbed two months before we came in. There’s a lot of char­ac­ters that hang out around the liquor store down the street. I think there’s a lot of unusual traf­fic at the house a few doors down. I’m find­ing I’m mak­ing assump­tions about peo­ple by their race and eth­nic­ity, and let­ting fear get in the way. It’s nice to sit inside and not go out. Or go out, and not have to come back till late at night.

I can’t hide behind lofty ideals, or mere words and lip ser­vice. This isn’t easy, again. My fear is cloud­ing every­thing, and it’s taken me a few weeks to admit it.