Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

February 12, 2026, has been a day on my mental calendar for over 10 years. February 12 was the day my youngest sibling turned 18.   

I was born in Tallahassee and have lived here for 31 years. My parents divorced before I was five. By the time I was 12, I had gone from being an only child with divorced parents to having two stepparents, two stepsisters, two “half” siblings, and two years later, another “half” sibling. I do not like the term “half” sibling.

My whole world changed when my first two siblings were born. A brother on my mom’s side, a sister on my dad’s side, born less than two months apart. Custody over me was still split between my two parents, so I was fortunate enough to spend time at home with my brother and sister for five years, and then my youngest sister for three years, before graduating high school at 17. Maybe someday I will write about the many changes I experienced growing up through all of this, but for now, I will skip ahead.   

February 12, 2026, is the day I gave myself permission to leave Tallahassee, to move away from here. I told myself around the time I was 18 that, although I wanted to run away from this town and the utterly complex dynamics of my families, I would stay and remain accessible to my siblings until they all legally became adults. I would be the opposite of what I experienced during some of the most formative years of my childhood. I would remain present and accessible to them during their youngest years, and I would remind them frequently that I loved them very much. The opportunities I had to see them, to spend time with them, to support them, I would. I didn’t ask anything of them other than to always remember I love them.   

When I first agreed to myself on this date at 18, I thought, as adults, no matter where any of us are in the world, there should be no barriers to our communication. There would be more accessibility to working on our relationships that would carry into our adult lives. The emotional veils puppeteered by our parents would be lifted, almost like magic. There would be an immediate change. How naïve. While this sentiment is technically true, many years have passed and so much has happened in their lives and in mine. My hyper-independent, analytical brain is reflecting on the past 20 years, what I could have done differently, what they experienced growing up versus what I did, who they have become, who I have become. This week has been more difficult than I ever imagined. Magic is not applicable here.   

And while I am closer to this “freedom” with my siblings, I am faced with the aging of those older than me on both sides of my family. So, now I finally have my own permission to leave, and what - I'm supposed to leave now, knowing my 94-year-old great grandmother, all my grandparents, both of my parents, my cousins, are all here, getting older? I did not consider this or that time would move so quickly.  

I am faced with much to think about. What is really keeping me here?