When college came in sight, I didn’t feel nervous, just excited and ready to go. I was ready to get out of the house, be independent, and start my journey that would enable me to get a job doing what I love. The first few days felt like camp, no classes yet, just exploring and getting adjusted. Then it hit. The first week of classes I was a wreck. The homesickness hit like a ton of bricks. I wanted to go home, see my family, and sleep in my own bed. Even though there is nothing for me in my small town, I wanted to go back. I craved the simplicity, countryside, and my own room. It eventually got better. I got to go home for the afternoon on Labor Day, and the next time I would go home would be fall break.
By that point, I had a friend group, now my best friends, and I was doing well. I didn’t realize just how great it would be to finally be home. But I was worried it wouldn’t feel like my home. I feared my bed wouldn’t be as comfortable, and I would feel like a stranger in my own home. Thankfully that was not the case.
The moment I walked in I felt so much joy to be back. The house felt huge, my room was an oasis, the living room brought comfort and fun memories, and the home-cooked meal was perfect. These are all things I enjoyed before going to college, but I have never appreciated them more than now. It didn’t feel strange to be back, it felt right.
I was home.
The place I learned to walk, rode through trails on the gator, and was surrounded by family. Home is where I learned lessons that would shape who I am today. From my parent’s advice, to playing (and fighting) with my siblings, the experiences that happened there are what made me.
Home is where you can be yourself, watch Hallmark movies that you know the ending to, and walk around in your pajamas. To college students, going home means more than free laundry, and a home-cooked meal, it means going back to where we were raised, letting our guard down, and taking a break from being an adult.
We had a painting on our kitchen wall that said, “A house is made of walls and beams, a home is made of love and dreams.” I have always loved that painting, but now I fully understand it. Home means love, security, hope, and safety. Home is where the heart is, and there really is no place like it.
