Over the years, the word “home” has changed drastically from its meaning when I was much younger. When I was little, home was the place I would travel back to after school. Home was where my parents and sister lived, and it had solid grounding — it never changed, it never left, it was always the same: safe, stable, and, most importantly, mine. Home was the word people used to describe a good place for playdates and get-togethers. Home encompassed a combination of dinnertime tales, heartfelt conversations, and family movie nights. As I’ve grown older, the meaning of home has transitioned into something much larger, increasing in its power, and making more room as my heart continues to grow.
I like to think of myself as considerably lucky that I did have a solid foundation to start my definition of home, and, as my definition continues to expand, so does my understanding of myself. As a child, home was the picture I was asked to draw in my preschool class, depicting awkward lines, an off-center roof, and trees that didn’t really exist outside my actual house. Home had silly stick figures of my family, but it didn’t incorporate the nitty-gritty details of my life.
Today, home is more than just the house I grew up in. In fact, home is no longer just a place. Home has become a collection of faces and virtues that continue to lift me and propel me in the right direction. Home began with the first faces I saw in life: my parents, and continued to expand over the years, as my sister entered the world and my friendships developed and became stronger. Home became open arms, rather than an open door — the support that my friends and family offered to me. Home encompasses the love and the kindness that my peers embody, the intertwined fingers between me and my partner, the text messages and phone calls between me and my loved ones, and so much more.
My home has become more than a house or a place to reside in. It slowly transformed from a physical entity to something deeper and more indescribable. Even the most descriptive wording fails to express the importance and complexity of what I call home. Since I’ve entered college, I don’t just live in one place anymore, but many, and so calling a physical dwelling “home” doesn’t fit everything that encompasses my idea of a home.
Home holds more than just physical qualities, but also emotional and spiritual ones. Home is where you feel comfortable and most at ease. It provides a level of safety and security that other places just can’t. Home might have recognizable faces, or complete solitude, and it differs from person to person. The importance of recognizing difference amongst the definitions of home is impossible to express aptly.
