Home Is Not Always Defined
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Home Is Not Always Defined

As people say, "home is where the heart is," but sometimes it takes time to find out where the heart is.

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Home Is Not Always Defined
Travel Portland

In the past, I have been told that a house is different than a home. A house is a building in which you sleep, while a home is a place you feel comfortable, whether it be a physical, emotional, or mental comfort. So, as I lived on I would try and accept my town as not just my house, but my home. However, I found it difficult. I didn’t feel comfortable where I was. Keizer, Oregon was just not the town that made me feel like I was making a difference in this world.

When I was younger I always thought I wanted to move to California. I wanted to be with cute surfer boys and L.A. superstars. As I grew older and had more freedom, I realized how beautiful of a place Oregon really is. There’s waterfalls, forests, rivers, lakes, beaches, and a huge city just above it all. Not many places have so many resources. All of this brought me a sense of peace, so I thought I would call earth's greatest gift, nature, home.

I still consider it home, but when I was a senior in high school and started applying for colleges I wanted to find a place that I would look at potentially as a forever home. I decided on Portland State University.

When I got here I noticed how overwhelming the city is, but I still wouldn’t trade the nights with my friends where there were countless new adventures we could go on every day. There is always so much going on and so many opportunities I could take to bring me to a better me.

My mom told me that when I would come home for a weekend that I will feel so happy to be back, but every time I went home, I couldn’t wait to go back. In the summer, I had to pack up my dorm and go back to Keizer. It wasn’t bad, until all I could think about when someone wanted to go do something, was to go to Portland. I just wanted that crazy nightlife that brought whoever you were with and you closer. I am not saying I want to go to clubs and bars, but just going to a playground at 3am to swing on a swing was the adventure I lived for.

Halfway through the summer, I was so ready to go back home to Portland, and when I got there, it wasn’t the same as it was before.

Now I really do miss home. But I don’t miss home, I miss my house, my cats, my family, my car, my backyard, the basketball hoop in the front yard, and my room. I miss being able to cuddle up on the big couch, watching my favorite tv show, drinking a nice cup of hot cocoa with my family and cats and not having one worry in the world. I miss being able to play basketball in a suburban neighborhood with neighbors I didn’t really talk to. I miss having those weekends where I spent cleaning and weeding the garden with my parents.

When I went home for a weekend I finally felt this sense of joy my mom had told me about, and part of me wishes I never left. The stuff I complained about before is now a blessing, and even more a memory.

However, I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for me moving to Portland by myself. Although I miss home, Portland is where I am growing, learning, and living in the greatest way I can. In the future I will be able to cuddle up on a nicer couch, with better hot chocolate, and a new family that I will create. I am okay with this being home for now because it is becoming more and more like home every day.
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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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