Last August, I took my first steps onto campus with my sights on the next nine months of classes, sports, and parties. My first year of college was filled with tons of new friends, new experiences, and new independence. I had all the time in the world to enjoy my new life as a student at the school of my dreams.

Now it’s May. My first and second semesters have come and gone. I survived Hell Week, learned how to make Ramen 10 different ways, and made some awesome memories with some amazing friends. I packed my car and made the seven-hour drive back to my hometown in my home state, and all I’m left with is one question: What now?

For months, I’ve been focused on my next class or homework assignment or project. I’ve had constant sources of entertainment all over campus. I immediately had a friend the second I opened my dorm room door. Now that I’m home, things are a lot different. I don’t have any homework to do. I can’t walk to a dining hall for a freshly made breakfast. When I open my bedroom door, I see an empty hallway. My suite mates and I keep the good times alive through a series of group messages, and Instagram and Twitter keep me posted on what all of my friends are doing, but it’s not the same.

When I was still in school, I thought I was ready for summer break. The thought of no classes, along with days on the beach, was enough to get me through all of my finals. But now that I’m on the other side, I really miss being at school. Honestly, it’s bittersweet. When I’m at school, I miss my friends and family back home. I crave the ocean and home-cooked meals. I feel every mile I am away from my hometown and all the memories that come with it.

Now that I’m at home, I feel the same way about school. I miss the constant activity, the constant companionship, and the sense of community with everyone else on a campus with 34,000 people. I miss being able to walk everywhere, even if it was to Insomnia Cookies at two in the morning. It’s been about 24 hours since I left school and I’m ready to go back.

This internal conflict is new to me, but not new to people who have been in my position. I’ve heard it happens when you go to college, or move out of your childhood home, or take a job in a new city. It’s hard to explain. It’s a combination of excitement and sadness. It’s the feeling when you don’t know exactly where “home” is anymore. I know tons of my friends feel the same way, so what can you do about it?

My advice? Change your definition of home. Stop thinking of your “home” as a single house, on a single street, in a single town. Instead, attach your meaning of home to the way that people and those places make you feel. “Home,” for me, is wherever my friends from both my hometown and college town are. Home is whenever I can hang out with my “frat brothers” from Suite 1003. Home is where my family is. Home is anywhere that I feel happy, anywhere that I feel welcomed, anywhere that I feel content living.

No matter who or what your “home” looks like, I hope you find it and appreciate it. It took a little time and an awesome first year of college, but I’m glad that I found mine.