Trapped

The pandemic took hold of most of our lives. Fear and precaution dominated every interaction, phone call, text message, and broadcast. Stay inside, stay apart, and wait.

Who we are inside and what we do outside are intertwined. It was only a matter of time before our senses of identity would show their fragility to no fault of their own.

Before the pandemic, I spent years refocusing my life on what was outside of the space I lived in. Daylight was my only limitation. This was both a gift and privilege.

My belongings became few, to stay nimble and unburdened. I’ve never regretted that decision. Then forced to stay inside, it hit me: I couldn’t see myself in my space at all.

I saw walls left intentionally bare. Indistinct bedsheets fit for a hotel room. Surfaces kept clean and tidy that could belong to anyone. Where did I fit into this place? Why did I feel trapped?

I wanted to leave. No, I wanted to escape to somewhere I knew I belonged but there was no such place.

The pandemic reminded me that home was something we made, grown with roots. Home keeps us steady when everything else is uncertain.

Trapped

Contact Ardie

Contact Ardie