Home: the place of Hurley surf contests and clean, trash-swept streets. Of middle-aged women with breast implants, sandals in January, and gyms so large they have their own hair salons inside. Of community yoga classes in grassy parks, outdoor shopping malls with acoustic guitar concerts, and “Closed” signs slapped to locked glass doors at 9pm. Of hilly running trails, foggy June mornings, and fish tacos so tender they ruin you for life. Home: a place I have loved and despised in equal measure.
This is an excerpt from an article I published this week on Matador Network. It's easily the most honest, vulnerable thing I've written and I wanted to share it here in case it strikes a chord with any fellow wild hearts out there. You can read the full piece here.