Home
What does home mean? What does it mean when you've finally found a place to call home? I feel like home is a word that gets thrown around a lot and means different things to different people. To some, home could be the literal "this is where I grew up." To others, it could be where their parents are from. Some may even consider multiple places home.
I've been thinking a lot over the last couple of days about what home means to me. I have a hometown and my mother still lives in the house I grew up in, but I don't consider that home. My dad's house was bought when I was 4, but still not home. There are familiar things about both... things that make you nostalgic... but it's not the same as feeling at home.
I lived in my mother's house from birth until 25. I lived in a dorm when I was in college, but always went back "home" to her house. While that's the place I lived the majority of my life, it's not my home. Home cannot be a place where you have bad memories and don't want to return to.
From 25-33, I lived with my ex-husband. We moved around a lot. Here's a timeline:
Weymouth 1: November '10 - August '11
Weymouth 2: August '11 - June '12
Easton 1: June '12 - November '16
Easton 2: November '16 - July '17
Quincy: July '17 - March '18
That last apartment is the one where I left him. None of these places ever felt like home. They were simply where I went at night. They are the places that hold memories of fights and abuse. As far as I'm concerned, at that point in my life, I had yet to have a real home.
When I left him, I didn't know what the future held. I had no plans to move 10 months later. By the time I left that last Massachusetts apartment and came to NY, I had never even finished decorating that apartment. Sure, if I had stayed it would have happened, but in my heart I think I always knew that it was just a temporary holding place.
By the time I got here to NY, I was beginning to think I would never feel truly at home anywhere. I'd never really had a space that was 100% my own... a place I found that embraced me, somewhere to go and find sanctuary. The thing is... that's exactly what happened. It's like I found a piece of a puzzle that was missing. This is the first time in my entire life that I feel at home somewhere. There's never a time when I walk in this door or walk around my neighborhood and dream about being somewhere else. When I say I'm home, I actually mean it.
This last year has felt like a dream. Not in the everything was absolutely perfect and I was living the dream kind of way. I mean that... there are times when it doesn't feel real. When you've lived your whole life never feeling like you fit anywhere... just kind of floating from place to place... finally finding somewhere that just feels right IS a dream.
- Danielle
I've been thinking a lot over the last couple of days about what home means to me. I have a hometown and my mother still lives in the house I grew up in, but I don't consider that home. My dad's house was bought when I was 4, but still not home. There are familiar things about both... things that make you nostalgic... but it's not the same as feeling at home.
I lived in my mother's house from birth until 25. I lived in a dorm when I was in college, but always went back "home" to her house. While that's the place I lived the majority of my life, it's not my home. Home cannot be a place where you have bad memories and don't want to return to.
From 25-33, I lived with my ex-husband. We moved around a lot. Here's a timeline:
Weymouth 1: November '10 - August '11
Weymouth 2: August '11 - June '12
Easton 1: June '12 - November '16
Easton 2: November '16 - July '17
Quincy: July '17 - March '18
That last apartment is the one where I left him. None of these places ever felt like home. They were simply where I went at night. They are the places that hold memories of fights and abuse. As far as I'm concerned, at that point in my life, I had yet to have a real home.
When I left him, I didn't know what the future held. I had no plans to move 10 months later. By the time I left that last Massachusetts apartment and came to NY, I had never even finished decorating that apartment. Sure, if I had stayed it would have happened, but in my heart I think I always knew that it was just a temporary holding place.
By the time I got here to NY, I was beginning to think I would never feel truly at home anywhere. I'd never really had a space that was 100% my own... a place I found that embraced me, somewhere to go and find sanctuary. The thing is... that's exactly what happened. It's like I found a piece of a puzzle that was missing. This is the first time in my entire life that I feel at home somewhere. There's never a time when I walk in this door or walk around my neighborhood and dream about being somewhere else. When I say I'm home, I actually mean it.
This last year has felt like a dream. Not in the everything was absolutely perfect and I was living the dream kind of way. I mean that... there are times when it doesn't feel real. When you've lived your whole life never feeling like you fit anywhere... just kind of floating from place to place... finally finding somewhere that just feels right IS a dream.
- Danielle
