For the past 18 years, I thought that my home was my house – a three-story, pale yellow colonial on Worcester Road. However, after living away in another state for a year and a half, I have realized that home is not a specific place. It’s a feeling that you can only get when you are surrounded by people who bring you happiness.
I was devastated when I had to leave my childhood home for college. As much as I tried to enjoy myself, I couldn’t. I felt alone without my family. However, a few weeks into the school year, I was eating dinner with some friends. After we finished, I said, “Alright, let’s go back home.” I paused as soon as the words left my lips. Did I actually just refer to a tiny dorm room with fluorescent lights, beige cinderblock walls and dirty floors as my “home”? I felt like I was cheating on my house. Was college slowly becoming my new home?
Weeks later, I returned for Thanksgiving. My house had a smell. You know, the one that only visitors can notice? My parents had switched seats at the dinner table, the pillows on the couch had changed, and the snack drawer had been rearranged. I felt oddly out of place in my own house. For a moment, I felt like this place was no longer my home. However, in a matter of hours, I was laughing until I cried, arguing over whose turn it was to do dishes, and discussing the latest political events. This was home.
I returned to college for the spring semester with great hesitation. I may have accidentally called William and Mary my “home,” but there was no way a school could bring me the same level of comfort that I felt in my childhood home. I was wrong. This semester was fun. I started to develop close friendships. I got involved in new activities. I started to understand what everyone meant when they said “college is the best four years of your life.”
In my college admissions essay, I explained why my home is the place where I am most content. In the last sentence, I wrote that “Home is more than just a place. It’s a feeling of comfort, security and unconditional acceptance that allows me to be who I am, dream of who I want to become, and take the first step in a new direction even if that step takes me away from home.” At the time, I couldn’t imagine this feeling existing in more than one place. The “feeling” and my house itself were mutually exclusive. However, after three semesters of college, I can confidently say that I have two homes.
When I’m at school, I’m surrounded by my best friends. They challenge me to break out of my comfort zone. They make me laugh even when I’ve had the worst day. They appreciate me for who I am, and support me in whatever I do. Landrum Hall is where I sleep, but home is the happiness I experience when I’m with my friends.
However, my childhood home will always hold a special place in my heart. Almost all of my memories take place there. It’s essentially where my life began. I remember painting my room with my Dad right before we moved in. I remember coloring on the patio with my mom when I was sick. I remember when I would come home from school and smell chicken soup or chocolate chip cookies baking. And there is no feeling quite like a hug from mom and dad or my dog jumping up to greet me. I will always return to this home, but it brings me a sense of peace to know that I can find a home wherever I go.
