When I left New York at 18 in 1988, I was off to college, but I was also searching for a place to fit in.
As I walk in the lush greenness, the familiarity of Middletown, it is not my home. It’s the place where I grew up, the town that shaped who I am today, but it’s not a place where I fit in.
Something happened to my family in the years that I’ve been gone. They’re more conservative. More entrenched in what they are doing. More easily shaped by the words spewed forth on the television or by their friends and neighbors.
They’ve got the car, the house, the kids, the white picket fence, the stability. But none of that was anything I ever pursued. And yet, there’s that non-spoken condemnation and the looks because I chose a different path.








