Southern Pride

I am Southern through and through.  No, I have not always fessed up to this title, but rather referred to it merely as where I live and have lived most of my life.  Being gone for so long though, I now know how much my blood runs deep with Southern pride.  I am a Southern girl.  I use y’all more than most words, I expect Southern charm from my men, I secretly love me a cowboy in some tight jeans and boots, and I could go for Mexican food, crawfish, or ribs at any moment.  Although my nomadic tendencies will never go away and I will always have some place that I want to go, I can officially say that I would be 100% content settling down in a Southern state, starting a family, and being exceptionally pleased with a little country home.

This move, this year abroad, it has shown me continuously how good we have it in America.  It has proven to me over and over again that the things I once complained about were silly because now I have faced real, difficult challenges that continue to stretch me to limits I didn’t and still have a hard time believing are possible.  This country, although it frustrates me here, has already shown me how much I appreciate the simplicity of relaxing on a porch with a good book and possibly a margarita.

I am Southern.  I am from the beautiful south.