I knew I didn’t want to leave before I even started packing. I dreaded the two-hour car ride as it took me farther from the place I grew so familiar with. I had just finished my first semester of college and am currently back in my hometown for a few days before fall term starts. For the past seven weeks I had rarely even thought of this house.I would periodically check in with my mom and dad, but for the most part I hadn’t even thought about what was going on back in St. Pete. I thought it would all hit me once I got here, but I found myself already missing school on the drive. I hadn’t missed anyone or anything while I was away and at first I felt bad.I felt bad that I was being missed more than I was missing anything. I don’t entirely understand the dynamics of how I could get attached to a place so quickly, but I think it has something to with possession and newfound freedom. I went to three high schools and lived in five different houses in the past four years. It was hard for me to attach the feeling of a home to any place I had been. Even the family I lived with constantly changed. First my mom, then my dad and then my aunt; my life lacked consistency. Home was as translucent a word to me as ghost.

College is what I earned. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there so I worked hard no matter the living conditions I was in. When I moved into my dorm this past June, I was welcomed by a completely empty room. Completely empty but completely stable. The blank walls and blank mattress and blank desk was all a recipe for a fresh start. The possibilities at that point in time were endless; I could create a space that was completely mine. I threw photos all over my walls, some of me and my friends and others of old postcards I had found at antique shops.I strung up lights and a tapestry and buried my desk and windowsill in plants. Its exactly how I wanted it to look and it represents me and my ideas of home. It’s no wonder I miss it so much; it’s the first thing I’ve had that emulates the warmth that a home is supposed to.It represents the freedom I have to cultivate my own space and life. This room, my room, is a place where I’m free to do anything and everything. I’m allowed to miss it more than my past rooms and I’m allowed to call it my home because it is.

If you are able, design a space that screams your name. Create a home for yourself that warms your entire being and comforts you. Make it your own personal escape and know that you can escape there whenever life gets stressful or scary. I was worried about the attachment to my room and what would happen when I have to move out next spring. I realized that it’s not the room, but what I put into the room. The room originally was hollow waiting to be filled, the farthest thing from warm and cozy. It’s refreshing to know that anything has the ability to provide comfort and warmth as long as what’s in it is special. I invite you to figure out what’s special to you and build from there; build your own world and get attached to it and love it. You deserve somewhere that makes you feel whole when life in general demands so many different parts of you. I found the place where I'll be able to be exactly who I want to be and I can't wait to continue that journey in just a few days.