Torn

You know when people say that they really feel torn?  Usually it is when they are making a decision, and both choices are really great.  That’s me.

I love Mexico.  I love the people, my job, and the lifestyle here.  I am a Mexican (as I have often declared in the last three months).  Unfortunately, like many Mexicans, I am debating a move to the United States for the sole purpose of making more money.  And it isn’t completely unappealing–to live near my family again would be great!

I’ve heard many stereotypes about the Mexicans living and working the United States–some say they are moving there to take advantage of the system.  Well, here’s a newsflash, friends:  The system doesn’t do much for our south-of-the-border-neighbors.  Some say that they don’t really want to become Americans.  They just want to live there and work.  Ahem.  I’ve always been red, white and blue through and through.  But I’ve got to tell you–I am starting to understand why.

This place is amazing.  Even in my current state, with the struggles I’ve had with healthcare, I love it here.  I don’t even feel like I can put it into words how it feels.  Relieved?  Free?  At home?

And yet, I am having to make a tough decision.  My heart is here.  I know, I know–you’ve heard that before.  I was heartbroken to leave Virginia.  I honestly can’t quite imagine what it will be like to return to the States.  To teach again in the States?  To travel again in the States.  To attempt to live in the States…

I get it!  I understand why Mexicans live together, work together, and hang on to their culture with tight grips.

Oh, money, why do I need you?  School loans, why must you be paid?

Oh, heart, cease your aching.