This marks my 3rd year as a blogger. It all began in January 2010 when I decided to start my former blog, Adventures of a Puerto Rican Girl in Brussels.   It became a narrative of my life in Belgium and travels throughout the world.  It became a diary of my life as an expatriate in a country which gave me six wonderful years of learning about life, culture, love, food, and everything in between.  I enjoyed documenting about my solution to world peace through Oktoberfest and wearing my heart on my sleeve as I wrote about my broken heart.  The blog also became a place which inspired me not only to embark in new adventures but to accept new challenges.  It made me not only honest with my readers but with myself. 

Yesterday, I went to the DC Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) to change my driver’s license.  I officially became a New York State driver August of 1995 at the age of 17. Since then, I managed to keep my NYS license while living in Japan, South Korea, Belgium, and Germany.  In a way, it was a link to home. A home I left at the young age of 17 to pursue my dreams, see the world, and experience a life beyond the snowy hills of Western NY.  Yesterday, the DMV clerk made me shred my NYS license. He told me “just let it go”.  Although it was a tiny sliver of plastic, it meant so much more.  I was saddened to see this 17 year link to my past go through a shredder.  At the same time it gave me a sense of optimism.

It also made me reflect on how challenging it is at times to let go.  Some things are trivial such as a license or an item of clothing. Others are deeper.  It can be a friendship or relationship which does not fit anymore.  When I was planning my move from Brussels to Washington, I had to make a lot of decisions about the things I wanted to hold on to and others that needed to go.  At times, it seems easy to say “throw it out” until the moment of truth comes.  I recall carefully packing a Leffe beer glass my friend Jaime “acquired” at Place du Luxembourg in Brussels sometime in 2007. When I opened the box in DC, the glass was in pieces.  As I threw it away, I acknowledged the memories Jaime and I created that night did not leave with the broken glass.
It is symbolic that I am starting a new year with a new identity card. It is a permanent reminder not only I have moved back but I am part of a community here. I am part of the community of Bloomingdale, where you can see a diverse mix of social class, race, and ages.  A place where Wanda, my front door neighbor organized a holiday block party and introduced me to the neighbors.  Some neighbors have lived there all their lives and some have just joined.  As much as I miss Brussels, I have chosen not to have an attachment of my former life.  Just as the Leffe glass, I’ve chosen to remember the nice memories. Sometimes we get caught up on “back in XYZ, it was so much better” or “that place was so much nicer” or “that person was so much better” without taking the time to be present and truly appreciate what is in front of us.  The things I threw out or sold in Brussels gave me space to welcome the new things in my life.
In Puerto Rico, we have a tradition of mopping the house New Year ’s Eve and throwing the bucket of dirty water outside at midnight. It symbolizes cleaning out all the negative things of the prior year and starting the New Year free of bad energy.  This year, I performed my new take on the ritual. With my Dyson vacuum cleaner in hand, I vacuumed throughout the whole house. My Dutch boyfriend at first witnessed in curiosity (or maybe horror) but later joined me in ritual.  Shortly after midnight, under the cold DC sky we emptied the canister of dust on the street.  I figured it would be more civilized than a bucket of water. I don’t want my neighbors to label me as the “crazy Puerto Rican” just yet.  As the dust particles flew in the cold DC wind, I manifested  2013 will bring us good health, love, success, and fortune.