Dear Oakland

Dear Oakland,

I'm sad, because I feel like you are pushing me out and away after 5 years of trying to make you home.

I often refer to myself as an uprooted sapling. Torn from the soil of my homeland and thrust into the wind. For a long while I thought my little roots would just shrivel up and I would drift forever. But then I (somewhat unknowingly at the time) began a search for hospitable soils, a new home. I found peace in Oakland. I found friends in Oakland. I found a home and two jobs in Oakland within a week and a half or so of being here! I found people who used the word "community" liberally. Being from LA and having gone to school in Santa Barbara, I was baffled. What is this "community" of which they speak? But then I started to know my neighbors and recognize them at the coffee shop. I started to see people around enough times that we finally just said hello. I did favors for people I knew well and people I barely knew at all. I went to parties & protests & potlucks. I could be my whole damn self - bruised and brown and a little strange. Cranky or in a good mood, on a skateboard or in heels, and it didn't matter whose hand I was holding, or if I was holding anyone's hand at all . . . nobody batted an eyelash. I felt like I had a little safety net made of people with their arms interlocked. If I wobbled on the tightrope of life and fell, they would catch me.

I got to know more and more people. I realized how networks work. Everybody knows everybody. I started to know more of this community's history. Who knows who, who slept with who, who dated who, who's kid that is, who worked where, who never speaks to that one person over there. I had some of my own relationships fall apart. Friendships, romantic relationships. I tried my best to stay friendly with ex's, but sometimes their lies and deceit were too much to bear. Sometimes just the hurt was too much to bear. I tried to stay on decent terms with friends as our relationships shifted and grew apart. But sometimes the blame was too much, or something else was too much, and we just couldn't do it anymore. Adult playgrounds became difficult. I used to see people navigating social scenes with caution: "I didn't invite her because her ex is dating HER." I never thought I'd be one of those people. I had always prided myself on maintaining good relationships with appropriate boundaries, and loving people unconditionally and forever. But I started to see myself as a player in that game. People started telling me when certain people would be at certain events. Or I just plain didn't get invited.

I realized that I had very very few close friends and lots of acquaintances. That I didn't feel comfortable asking anyone to bring me soup when I am sick anymore, or to drive me to the airport. Because there was only the one friend who had ever offered to do those things and I didn't want to ask for too much of him. I realized that I don't actually have anyone to call when I just need to have a good cry with a good friend who would tell me everything would be okay. I realized that some of my damaged relationships would never be healed - I could take responsibility for some part of that, but sometimes shit just sucks and shit just happens and people shit on you. That's a lot of shit. I realized that I had no idea what the future held. And that used to be okay. But it wasn't anymore.

I want to have a family. I want a partner and I want to birth a kid. I want a home. I want friends and I want a community. I want to trade recipes and sad stories and bunches of kale for the Meyer lemons off of your tree. I want to go out dancing and hug half of the people in the club. I want to go for a walk without the fear in my heart that I will run into one of those people who hurt me so badly that I feel like I would just disintegrate if I saw them. I want to feel like I can tell the truth. I want to give to people and do them favors and cook them meals and watch their kids. And I want them to do that for me. I want to feel like it's okay to ask. I want friends who will call me when they know I am having a hard time and ask if I need anything. Just like they would call me if they knew I was in a great mood and wanted to go run around in the sunshine and laugh.

Can Oakland give me this? Am I asking too much? I know I am responsible for creating some of it, and believe me, I am trying my best, with my limited time, energy, and resources. But it's really difficult to keep giving if you're not getting anything back, and I feel like I've been experiencing that for just a little too long now. I know that the most valuable gift I can give is one for which I don't expect anything in return. But the world is rapidly changing and our systems are falling apart, and the only thing we've got to see us through it is each other. And I don't want to go out alone.