Dona E. Bowens

There’s a lot to do, but not much more to do, before I bounce outta here. And as I go about what’s left to do—the bank, the BMV, the canceling of utilities—I keep hearing the same response, again and again, to my plan to move to Uruguay.

“You are brave.”

I’m not brave, friends and family, I’m just built different. You know who’s brave? Those good teachers I’ve met along the way who are about to brave another school year in the trenches. I couldn’t face that shit. For me, because I’m built different, it’s much easier to move to Uruguay than to face another day in the American classroom. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do if I knew that I was to face another year subbing. Lordy, Jesus, help me Gawd! No. No, thank you.

It’s not brave to purge 95% of my belongings. It’s necessary to let it go to get on my way. Boxes of photos and CDs and I’ll admit it, even books hit the landfill. I almost felt bad about the books. Should have donated them or at least recycled. But I’m about efficiency right now. I’ve already written about my reckless purging so suffice it to say that everything I will own post August 21, 2025 is already contained in one duffle, one suitcase and a carry-on. I was hoping to get it to one duffle and a carry-on but damn it if I’m not going to need a winter coat…or two.

Now, many of my grown-ass women friends find themselves with empty nests as the kids head off to college or graduate. How many of them have contacted me, joyous in their new-found freedom talking about, “I’ve been checking flights…” Check them flights, girl. Make your way down so we can eat, drink and smoke all the things without worrying about where we might have to be tomorrow. Y’all earned it. See, motherhood is an act of bravery. I’m just moving to Uruguay not trying to raise a fully functioning human. I will never be a mother, and never wanted to be because I’m supremely selfish, so I can’t imagine the bravery it takes to let your child fly after you’ve poured everything you could into this person. My own mother is having a hard time letting me fly despite knowing that she built me different. Pray for her. Thank you.

Being built different is about accepting all my glorious quirks and indulging them. My brain can’t abide boredom. Where I’m going, I’ll learn something new everyday, even if it’s just a new word or how to buy a bus ticket. Being built different, given the choice, I’ll take a studio apartment in a vibrant downtown and be thrilled NOT to mow a lawn ever again. And by the way, the apartment in the link costs $525/month. Where can I get an apartment like that for the same price anywhere in America? I’ll wait…

No, I’m not brave. It’s just that, because I’m built different, it’s scarier to me to stay in place than to face the unknown. But Uruguay is not the unknown. It’s known to millions and I’m about to count myself as one of them.