Dorothy Was Right, There's No Place Like Home
If only I could click my heels to get there.
Driving and not having to think about where you're going or what turn to make next.
Knowing which restaurants close when, and where to get the best everything, from coffee to burgers.
Sleeping in your own bed, under a familiar roof, with the knowledge that the people you love most are just outside your door.
Walking downstairs in the morning and knowing there will be coffee waiting for you.
The feeling of familiarity and the way your shoulders settle as soon as you drive within your city's limits.
These are the best things about going home, and being home in general, at least for me.
It wasn't until I moved to college that I realized just how much I loved the city I grew up in. It wasn't until I was left to navigate a brand new city on my own that I realized how comforting Mansfield, Ohio is to me. Many people I grew up with hated our hometown; they couldn't wait to get out. Which is fine, some people welcome change.
And it's not that I don't want to see other corners of the world, I can't wait to travel. But I will always feel the most at peace when I'm wrapped in the familiarity of the town I was born and raised in.
I remember the first time I came home from college after moving away. As soon as I started to recognize the buildings and landmarks of Mansfield after an hour's drive, it felt like the city had its arms wide open to welcome me home. The feeling of uneasiness, that I hadn't even realized I'd had, vanished.
Don't get me wrong, there are times that I've wanted nothing more than to drive out of Mansfield and never look back. Times where I've felt too confined by the familiar people and places. Times where I needed somewhere bigger, somewhere less comfortable, somewhere that could keep up with how fast my hopes and dreams seemed to move. Sometimes I craved nothing more than to look out my window and see busy streets, filled with city dwellers.
So naturally, Cleveland, the "city-est" of cities I could find, seemed like a good choice. And suddenly I had the big buildings and the crosswalks and the busy streets I'd wanted. I'd lay in bed at night, hearing the sirens and sounds of the city, and these noises worked better than any lullaby to put me to sleep.
But alone in a big city was not as great as I'd imagined. I missed the familiar roads of Mansfield. I missed sitting with my friends at our favorite coffee shop. Or eating lunch with my family at local restaurants on Sunday's. Or taking walks with my dog around the block of a neighborhood I love. Or sitting on the back terrace with my mom, just enjoying each other's company. I missed home.
Mansfield will always be my home. It will always be the place where I feel the most relaxed, surrounded by my family and friends. But nevertheless, Cleveland has started to feel less like an enemy and more like a friend that you can see a beautiful relationship blossoming with. I've grown leaps and bounds since I've been here and Cleveland has taught me lessons I could have never learned at home. Each time I drive out of Mansfield headed toward Cleveland, I feel a little less uneasy than I did the time before.
If you're struggling with homesickness, like I did and still do sometimes, just try and remember that home isn't going anywhere. Your hometown will always be waiting for you and will welcome you back whenever you need a fix of that familiarity. There will be no shortage of visits home where you can revel in the feeling of knowing the streets you're driving like the back of your hand. Leaving home will only make your love for your family and the place you grew up in double in size. But it will also introduce you to new places that you'll come to enjoy.
I was so afraid to enjoy myself in Cleveland because I felt like I was betraying my home, but I realized that I have room in my heart for more than one city. I've also learned that even if I can call Cleveland home someday, nothing replaces the place you grew up in.
Cleveland, I love you, but Dorothy was right. There's no place like home.