From the moment things started to heat up with Paul’s interviews for the job out here, I felt good about Texas. It had never been on my radar before as a place to live but suddenly I found myself getting excited. It was the next step, it was the right step, and our world was going to change in a new, exciting, and positive way. The closer we got to moving day, the more excited I was. Frankly it was the only thing that got me through the emotional horror of moving week.

I had a singular moment in the week before the move with my dear friend Carolyn, a woman with whom I have eight years of history, our lives being intertwined in ways I could never have anticipated. Not all of our interactions have been positive memories and we couldn’t see the world more differently, and yet in spite of all of that (because of it?) I truly love this woman. She approached me, excitedly, and announced to me that she had just realized that I was moving to the land of Glen Beck.

Frankly, I spend very little time thinking about him, and I apologize to you who adore him, but I when she said that my heart sank. For the first time since this had all started, I was filled with doubt and dread. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.

But I love Carolyn and I know she loves him, and that doesn’t make her a bad person nor does it make me a bad person. I swallowed my fear and stammered something like “wow … uh … has anyone seen Ruth? She’s my ride.” (That must have sounded strange given that Paul was standing behind me, how could anyone have known I had a lunch date with Ruth?)

Paul and our friend Kathy had a front row seat to the whole thing. Paul saw Kathy and Carolyn immediately notice my face, crestfallen and ashen. Carolyn immediately recognized that she had delivered news I had not taken to be good, according to the expression on her face. Kathy seemed humoured by the whole thing, Paul was entertained but awkward. I found Ruth quickly and escaped.

I spent the next couple of weeks worried that Carolyn was right. I was worried that everyone would be a rabid Glen Beck fan, not because I don’t think Glen Beck fans can’t also be wonderful people and dear friends, they are, but I worried that they would all be that way. I worried deeply that I would be thrust into a homogenous community, one of my strongest fears. I comforted myself that Dallas was a diverse city full of imports and that I could surround myself and my family with a variety of people and ideas. I prayed fervently that this was true and that I would be okay in our new home.

In what was probably our second Sunday, someone made a point in Sunday School about the importance of sharing ideas and said, “the election is coming up this fall and some of you are going to vote for Romney and I will not hold it against you.” It was then that I realized that I am going to be just fine here. I have found people who think and question and wonder and love regardless of differences. I don’t yet love these people as much as I love my friends in LA, and it’s possible I never will, but that’s okay, too, because I will love them differently, and we are all okay.


One Response to Doubt

  1. feathersky says:

    Wait. You don’t like Glen Beck? I’m not sure if I can be your friend anymore. Next you’re going to tell me that you don’t have a stockpile of guns under the cushions of your couch. This is Texas woman!!!

    Good thing I’m not in TX anymore so I’m exempt from all those rules 😉

    On a side note–Nathan’s brother is a MAJOR Glen Beck fan. For Xmas he sends us Glen Beck books. I’m pretty sure a couple of them are still on our bookshelves….I’m positive not one has ever been read.

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