How You Know You're Home

Upon coming back to New Jersey from four months in California, I can say it feels nice to be home. It's great to be where roads are familiar and see the same three faces of my various neighbors over and over. I love being back in New Jersey, but there's a little voice in the back of my head saying that I belong back on the West Coast.

The only way I can explain that feeling is this: Do you remember when you were touring colleges and as soon as you stepped foot onto campus, you had a gut reaction to it? For example, when I was touring Emerson College in Boston, I just knew from the first five minutes in their admissions room that the place wasn't for me (sorry Emerson-goers).

But when I walked onto Syracuse's campus for the first time as a student, I knew I belonged there.

It's that. That little feeling in your gut and that notion in the back of your head saying that you are meant to be there for some reason.

I know how incredibly cheesy that sounds. I also am well aware that no one will understand my gut feeling because they aren't me. Part of me belongs out there, but part of me belongs here, in New Jersey. Most of my family lives in the Garden State and coming from a large Italian family, we are all very close.

It was so difficult to be away from them for so long, but at the same time, there was something about the exhaustingly fantastic air in California that made me want to stay. So many people there are trying to do the same thing as me, but none of them are quite like me. That's what was so great about being out there: We all helped each other achieve our dreams.

When one of us was promoted, we all were a bit. It gave us hope.

So, for now, I'll stay on the East Coast, maybe get my start here. Eventually, though, I need to go back to California because something somewhere inside of me knows that it's home.