When I was 15 years old, my life felt like it was falling apart. I cried to my mom in my bedroom. This had been my bedroom for 12 years. Everything that could possibly go wrong was going wrong and she looked at me with desperate eyes and said, “What can I do? What do you need?” Despite the fact that I was in the only house I had ever known, I looked back at her and muttered, “I just want to go home.” At the time I don’t think either one of us knew what I meant when I said that so she just hugged me really tight and life went on. As I have started this new chapter in life, and moved out on my own, I realize more and more what it really means to want to go home.

Webster's Dictionary defines the word home in a simple way. “Home: the place where a person lives.” I have to disagree. A home is not the building where you sleep at night. A home is not the house that you grew up in. A home is a place in your mind where there is a lot of love and happiness. When I told my mother that I wanted to go home, what I believe I meant was that I wanted to be back in a time where things were good and simple. Home is wherever you are happy.

My first semester of college was an emotional rollercoaster for me. I felt lost, out of place and disconnected from my life. In these few short months I found myself, once again, longing to go home. So I drove three hours back to my hometown. I sat on the couch that had memorized the form of my body. I watched the TV that had recorded all of my favorite shows. I slept in the bed that had seen all of my dreams. Nothing changed. I still felt sad, lonely and empty. I drove back to Murfreesboro and on the way back I made a decision. I decided to truly go home and that’s what I did. I found the things that made me laugh, the people that made me smile and the memories that made me happy; I made myself a new home. A home that I would never have to leave. This is when I realized that home is not a physical building, but a way of living.

I find a piece of my home in every phone call with my sister. I build onto my home by watching my little cousin grow up into a beautiful young lady. I see my baby sister take her first steps and I am no longer sad. Memories of my grandmother playing with me in the creek keep me from feeling disconnected. I am back in my happy place every time I think about riding in the snow in my daddy’s beat up truck. I don’t feel so far away every time I think about that dimple faced boy that once lit up my world. I find happiness in a group message with my best friends who constantly make me laugh. In my home, the one I built for myself, there’s not a day that goes by that I feel lost. I am reminded that I am not alone every time my mom says, “I love you more.” It’s okay to want to go home when life gets tough, but sometimes you can go home while staying right where you are.

Find the things that make your life better and build walls around these things to guard them. Slowly but surely you will have built a home that you will never have to leave and no one will ever be able to take away from you. Fill your life with good things and good people. Don’t be scared to do anything at all. Never forget to laugh or smile or chuckle or snort. Make memories. Build a life that you don’t need a true escape from but know that if you do need to get away your home is not that far. Your home is in your heart.