My wife, Bianca, and I were taking a walk around our suburban neighborhood when she blurted out “Why don’t you call it Fighting Suburbia?”. And that’s how Fighting Suburbia was born. The End.
Oh, you want more context. Ok, here goes…
4 weeks earlier, we had arrived back in the chicago suburb we were living in before we went to Bogotá. We had come back for two reasons 1) To visit with a relative who was dying of breast cancer 2) To wrap up odds & ends (e.g., apartment, cars, etc) in our chicago suburb so that we could move back to Bogotá.
Thankfully, we were able to do #1. Gratefully, we were also able to attend her funeral. Now that #1 was complete, our focus turned towards #2.
Since returning to our chicago suburb 4 weeks prior, something felt different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but every day I yearned to be back in the streets of Bogotá. I missed being immersed in a language other than English as soon as I left our apartment. I missed the street vendors selling their cut up fruits and Salpicón. I missed our little fruit and vegetable market where we got some of the best tropical fruit I’d ever had. I missed the little community that we’d built and the waves/smiles/and short conversations I had with various members of our “community” on a daily basis. And I missed so much more that perhaps I couldn’t put into words. In short, our chicago suburb didn’t feel like home anymore. Bogotá did.
Part of me began to wonder if this suburb ever did feel like home. I had a sneaking suspicion that my mind had tricked me into accepting it as home. Yet, home had never truly taken root in my heart.
Or maybe it did feel like home at some point, and then something happened. But what? What would have happened to force this change? I didn’t have an answer.
The second piece of the puzzle was that I had decided a few days ago to start a blog. I was super-pumped about this idea.
So, during this walk, I started asking Bianca what I should name it. At first, I shared that I was thinking of using my name. My logic was that I was going to share my authentic story and self with the world. So, what could be more authentic than using my own name?
However, it didn’t feel right. Deep down, I felt I needed to dig a bit deeper. You know, push myself a bit more. After all, I didn’t even come up with my name.
Yup, it was time to force myself to define what this blog was all about. I was struggling to do this.
My wife listened patiently to my back and forth monologue for a bit. Given that we’ve shared quite a bit of the journey through life for the past 23 years, she had a pretty good idea of what my authentic story was. After patiently listening, she said:
“Why don’t you call it Fighting Suburbia?”
I knew the instant she said it that I had found the name for the blog. Over the coming days, the name would continue to grow on me.
Thus, dear reader, Fighting Suburbia was born.