Home is where the heart is.
I’ve never moved. Ever. Sure I lived in a dorm at college and spent 4 months living in Hong Kong. But home was home. It never changed.
T and I are planning to move in together this summer. We’ve started looking at apartments and we even went to a furniture store (talk about overwhelming). Though this is months away, I am already starting to mentally prepare myself.
You see, I’m a homebody. Not only do I have a wonderful family, but I also have a wonderful place to live. I am truly blessed.
My home is part of my identity; it’s woven into my life story, my history. This home of mine has given shelter to six generations before me. Who am I when I leave it?
Okay so I am being a little dramatic. But really? I can’t imagine leaving. And I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Is this my home because my parents are here? Because my things are here? Because I sleep here at night? Because I’ve always been here? Will this new apartment T and I move into ever be considered home?
If home is where the heart is, then how can I only have one home? My heart is with my family, my friends, my sister (who’s at college), my boyfriend. So then by that logic, my home is wherever they are.
Many people my age just can’t wait to move out and away from their parents. But I get along with my parents. Yes I do feel like I am constantly straddling the line of childhood and adulthood. But I am comfortable here. Moving out will be a challenge that will make me uncomfortable.
But I am ready.
So what does “home” mean to me?
It’s not a tangible place. It’s a mental one. It’s where you feel safe, warm, and loved. You can have multiple homes. So when I move out, I will not be losing a home, I will be gaining one. For home is where the heart is.