Throughout high school, all I could think about was how much I wanted to escape the Rio Grande Valley. I was tired of the lack of opportunity, the inability to walk to my destination, and the suffocating feeling of construction. A typical, cliche theme of a small town girl dreaming of bigger, “better” things is the exact category a 16-year-old version of me was cast under. Now, halfway into my second year of university, I find myself missing the comfort of my little border town.Â
With the rustling noise of traffic and obnoxious laughter of drunken college students, my head pounds at the consistent overstimulation that is accompanied by the city of Austin. Sitting alone in my apartment, feet aching from my 8-hour shift at an on-campus restaurant, and waiting for my ramen to inevitably overcook in the microwave, I remember how different life was at home. The smell of fresh air that danced in the wind, a rarity in the metropolitan jungle of Austin. The constant chitter of Espanglish in crowds. The mouthwatering visual of freshly cooked, real Mexican food. The overall familiarity and sense of belonging I felt in the valley is a testament I never thought would leave my tongue. Nowhere else do I feel as heavy a sense of community as I do in my town south of the Rio. It’s contradictory, however, because despite loving my home, I find myself questioning whether I’d ever live there again after finishing my education. Although the culture is a part of my soul, I wonder if my body and mind would be happy to reside where I was so desperate to escape. So, as I ignore the beeping of my microwave timer, I drift off further into my mind, pondering what the future holds for me and the RGV.
Shopping trips that we would leave empty-handed at La Plaza Mall in McAllen. The rare summer trips to South Padre Island with my family. And every primary to secondary school memory that took place in Weslaco. My life sprouted in the soil of the RGV. My personality and humor are shaped by my family in the house my parents built so long ago in 1994. My dearest and closest friends came from the overcrowded high school we always hated. Everything about who I am was born in the border towns of South Texas. As I stir my soggy noodles, mixing in Valentina and limon, I take in a deep breath and tune out the noise of the city.
In the silence, I am reminded of how blessed I am. I struggled my way through high school to make it to UT. I am grateful to experience, and continue to experience the opportunities that Austin has to offer. I am indebted to the sacrifices my siblings and parents made for me to get where I am today.
Releasing my breath, taking a sip from my bowl of sopa huevona, I stare out my window and relish the life I was granted. I don’t know what is in store for my future in the valley. I don’t know where I’m headed right now, nor whether or not my future belongs in Texas. Nevertheless, it will always be a piece of my heart, and no matter where I am, the Valley will always be my home.Â