Dear Houston,
I never met you, just knew your name. But from the age of 17, I knew you were where my life would be forever changed. I was always looking for a place to call home. Although I had a family that showed me genuine care, St. Louis was never the place I was destined to be. I lived a life always searching, not feeling like I belonged.
When college approached, I thought about coming to meet you sooner. But I decided to go with what felt a little safer and took my educational adventures to Huntsville, AL. Good thing I’m not a girl who likes the traditional things in life. If I were, my journey to self would have ended there with getting caught up in the simplicities of life, getting married, building a family, the end. Although now, being single at 38, that doesn’t sound too bad.
I left Huntsville in 2009 but only returned to the cold arms of the Lou. Reality hit. The fantasy of graduating college and having the job of your dreams that aligns with your degree (the one you start paying for six months after graduation, every month until this day, with many forbearances and low-income repayment plans) began to fade. The dream of living in your destined city dims into buried hope for eight years.
Eight years of becoming a shell of myself. Living just to survive. Making only enough money to pay $398 in rent and a $202 car note, yet barely having enough money to enjoy life. Of course, you force yourself into a relationship because that’s what adults do, right? But what I found out is that I never grew up. I wasn’t an adult. Love was something I didn’t understand.
So, that relationship hurt. Not solely because of the other person but because I didn’t know who I was, what I deserved, how to love anyone, or how to receive it. Again, I was lost, thinking I would find myself in a person. And when that didn’t happen, I filled myself with food and toxic behaviors. Numbness soon followed, and though I longed so deeply to escape, the courage to leave and meet you slowly but surely dissipated altogether.
My desires were replaced with others’ desires. Can you believe I almost missed my opportunity to meet you? I nearly betrayed you and the deep heart nudging to be with you to live in LA. “I wouldn’t be alone,” was my reasoning. But thank God I got there and quickly learned I had no one at all. My heart would never be in that city.
I finally reached my breaking point in April 2017. There was nothing left to lose. So, I ran. No walking. No looking back. I ran to you. And Houston, you welcomed me with open arms. I finally felt free and knew I was where I was supposed to be.
Even though it wasn’t a true plan in place, you looked out for me. Your culture and diversity brought about a new experience I had never witnessed in my entire life of segregation (yes, it still exists). There was always something to do, somewhere to explore. I thank you for that. I never felt tired of the immense social activities. I had no time to be bored.
Houston, you were the best escape. The best city to live in for a girl like me. I looked for you my entire life, and I have found you.
For six and a half years, every week was filled with a party here, drinking there, and being engulfed in a sea of men. It was fun, exciting, intriguing. Then suddenly, there it was a slight tug on my heart. Could it be? The feelings I ran from for 36 years coming back to flood me?
So, I tried to turn my direction a little. But I couldn’t let go of what you gave me. I couldn’t betray the life I’d become accustomed to. I owed you. You got me out of the depths of emptiness and the boringness of life. Clearly, I just needed to explore you more to find the spark I once felt. But I battled.
Houston, you no longer felt like my warm, cozy home. You felt more and more like an isolated island.
Then, one doctor’s visit changed everything. Restrictions were given. All I had now was the purity of water, self-discipline, and thoughts I had run from for many, many days. I was lonely since my life could no longer be filled with the foods from restaurants I loved or the drinks that transported me to another world. Access had been denied.
What I found is that you couldn’t save me. Being here and indulging wasn’t going to save me from me.
But being with you, Houston has saved me. Had I never come to you, I would not have known true independence from my family. I wouldn’t have learned what it means to truly grow up. Not because of the increasing number every 365 days on a calendar but because of hard, tough experiences that shape you, change your perspective, and that you must face alone.
You gave me room to build confidence and be myself. There was no one way I needed to be. Meeting different people from all walks of life showed me that I didn’t need to fit in a box to be me, to be who I was created to be.
Most importantly, had it not been for you, Houston, my renewed, firm foundation would not have been set. Who knew that the random thought at 17, “I will live in Houston,” was a guide from the Lord? Because you are where I would truly meet Him.
The Lord knew you would be my place. The place He would show up and snatch me into His arms. I would turn from the ways of the dark principalities of this world. I would forgive myself for the self-harm caused during my escapism. He knew it would be you who would provide the space to walk in purpose, to recognize generational traumas and bondage, and to break them.
He used you to get to me, to show me my patterns, my habits, and my comfortability. He allowed me to live freely within you, learning your ways and accepting your openness. Ultimately, I found that going fully my way with you meant I was living in bondage and sin.
Houston, I thank you. Being here has granted me access to the freedom, love, and divine purpose I’ve searched for my entire life.
As we continue this journey, I know the Lord will be in the midst. And I will say that Houston has been and will continue to be the place of firsts: my first home, first puppy, first and only husband, first child, and the list goes on.
Houston, the love I have for you is deep. Thank you for holding space for me.

Yours Truly,
LuLu