She didn’t know how to explain that she wanted to amount to more than her mother had, that she was hungry, hungrier than Mom had ever been. That home wasn’t enough anymore, that she feared it would snuff out the small flame she’d managed to stoke inside herself. That what she craved wasn’t the well-worn love of her family, but the flinty indifference of the unknown, that it was a kind of inspiration, that it had fueled the best work of her life so far. That she wanted to see what it had to offer her now.
