It started with simple miscalculation of both the distance and expense of essentially moving cross country. As a result, I was forced to fit over two decades of my life into two polka-dot suitcases adorned with pink bows. My plane was scheduled to leave Thursday at 7am so naturally I began the tedious process of deciding what portion of my life to leave behind on Wednesday night. So here I sit, folding khakis and tucking away hijabs, not completely aware where Colorado is or what it has in store for me but, ready.
I was a flight risk with a fear of falling