"She's a Texan Now!"

My friend Mendy introduced me with those words at the 2008 Oklahoma Public Health Association (OPHA) Annual Meeting. 

At the time, Mendy was the President of OPHA. She had invited my best friend to give the keynote address at the annual meeting, which was held in Tulsa, Oklahoma, in March 2008.

I had moved to Dallas two months earlier. Mendy asked me to return to Oklahoma to introduce Carolyn at the meeting, and I agreed.

After Mendy spoke the words in the title of this post, I stepped to the microphone and said, “I will never be a Texan.”

Never say never!

It’s been 14 years since I accepted a position in Dallas, headed south, signed a lease on the first of several apartments, and purchased a blow-up bed, two wine glasses, corkscrew, and freestanding fireplace during my first month in the Lone Star State.

The truth is that I was probably a Texan the minute my car crossed the Red River, but I was still trying to placate the culture of the state I was leaving – don’t ask why, just hate Texas.

I’ve devoted a considerable amount of space in my blog about my love affair with Dallas, and by extension, Texas. I love the access it provides to things I want to do, its skyline, culture, art, food, and people. I love the freedom it has given me to grow and be the person I always wanted to be. I love the state of mind I feel when I’m in Dallas or Austin or Fort Worth or San Antonio or many other Texas cities. 

Before I lived in Dallas, I always dreaded returning “home” after a trip. I used to think it was because of my insatiable wanderlust. Not anymore. I still love to travel, but for the past 14 years, I’ve also loved coming home to Dallas.

I’ve long heard the saying that “home is where your heart is,” the place for which you feel the deepest affection, no matter where you are. 

For me, that is Dallas. 

Regardless of where I am, I will always be @shellindallas “searching for moments of awe in 2-1-4 and beyond.”