Having A Place To Call Home

Having A Place To Call Home

A "home" can be many things. It's not about the place itself, but what it represents.


I don't have one place that I would call "home". The house and surrounding environment in which I grew up in France has changed too much to feel like my childhood anymore. I've had a whole year revisiting it to realize that. The "home" aspect of it resides in my head, not in reality.

At least not anymore.

This used to bother me. A lot. When we first moved to the US, I would negatively obsess over the fact that our house in Chapel Hill didn't feel like "home". For many years, it was too new. It was too uncomfortable.

Then we moved back to France, and I realized something. Like I said in the first paragraph, my house in France used to be "home". But what do I mean by that exactly? It was a place with memories, grounded in reality, that I could come back to.

Until I couldn't.

I experienced realizing that my home wasn't my home anymore like the death of a character. No longer could I rely on what I used to know. I had to grow. And grow up.

I don't have one home anymore. I have multiple. There are a couple of places that I ground myself in. None will last forever, nor do I expect them to.

There lies the shift that I experienced, which is in the definition of "home" itself. I used to think that a home had to be a singular place, one that stays with you most of your life. Now, I believe that's only partially true. A home - if it is truly one - will stay with a person forever. However, its place in the world might disappear.

Maybe the building got destroyed. Maybe it's still standing, but just not the same. Maybe the surrounding area is unrecognizable.

So here's an idea: maybe home isn't a place on Earth, but a piece of mind. It exists not only through walls and ceilings, but it's associated memories and feelings. Why not? Then, a home can be revisited forever again, as long as the memory of it never fades away.

Now is my second semester of college. My rather small dorm room feels a lot like home, in a way I've never experienced before. I'm able to go and see my friends throughout the day, on my own terms, whenever I feel like it. I didn't have a period of adjustment, where I felt out of place. I didn't get homesick. I guess moving a lot taught me to adapt, finding home wherever I ended up.

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To The Parent Who Chose Addiction

Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.


When I was younger I resented you, I hated every ounce of you, and I used to question why God would give me a parent like you. Not now. Now I see the beauty and the blessings behind having an addict for a parent. If you're reading this, it isn't meant to hurt you, but rather to thank you.

Thank you for choosing your addiction over me.

Throughout my life, you have always chosen the addiction over my programs, my swim meets or even a simple movie night. You joke about it now or act as if I never questioned if you would wake up the next morning from your pill and alcohol-induced sleep, but I thank you for this. I thank you because I gained a relationship with God. The amount of time I spent praying for you strengthened our relationship in ways I could never explain.

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Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.

The amount of hurt and disappointment our family has gone through has brought us closer together. I have a relationship with Nanny and Pop that would never be as strong as it is today if you had been in the picture from day one. That in itself is a blessing.

Thank you for showing me how to love.

From your absence, I have learned how to love unconditionally. I want you to know that even though you weren't here, I love you most of all. No matter the amount of heartbreak, tears, and pain I've felt, you will always be my greatest love.

Thank you for making me strong.

Thank you for leaving and for showing me how to be independent. From you, I have learned that I do not need anyone else to prove to me that I am worthy of being loved. From you, I have learned that life is always hard, but you shouldn't give into the things that make you feel good for a short while, but should search for the real happiness in life.

Most of all, thank you for showing me how to turn my hurt into motivation.

I have learned that the cycle of addiction is not something that will continue into my life. You have hurt me more than anyone, but through that hurt, I have pushed myself to become the best version of myself.

Thank you for choosing the addiction over me because you've made me stronger, wiser, and loving than I ever could've been before.

Cover Image Credit: http://crashingintolove.tumblr.com/post/62246881826/pieffysessanta-tumblr-com

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Yes, I Know The Drawbacks Of My Major

Contrary to popular belief, I think the pros of being a teacher outweigh the cons.


When someone says that they are studying to become a teacher, they will get one of two responses. The first is most commonly just a blunt question asking why. The second is a comment on how little money they will be making. I will start out by simply saying yes, this profession on paper is not appealing nor is it rewarding to most people. It is a job where you teach students that are not always pleased to be in your classroom. This job does make little money, you do make significantly less than in my opinion, you deserve. I could sit here, and list out every nitty gritty drawback being a teacher has but I feel as though it would be better to list out the reasons why being a teacher is worth it.

I am going to let everyone in on a little secret; every education major knows exactly what they are going to make. I did not choose education to be a millionaire or make six figures. I did not select it for material benefits. I chose to become a teacher because I felt it was what I was meant to do. Teaching to me is more than all the things society says is bad about the profession. I want to be a teacher because I want to impact students life as my teachers did for me. My teachers specifically in high school were some of the most helpful and kindest people I had ever met. I had a math teacher who was so patient with me and genuinely wanted to see me succeed in his class. He was so willing to help me work through the subject and bless his soul I was not easy to teach math to. However, he worked with me until I understood. That was the first math class I earned a B in, in high school. I had a drama teacher who gave me an activity that I was genuinely passionate about, and a sense of belonging in the school. An English professor in high school that caused me to fall in love with my subject even more. The teacher that made me want to be a teacher was my junior year English teacher. She impacted my life in ways that meant more than she would ever know. She was not just my teacher who taught enthusiastically about a subject I adored; she was my mentor, confidant, sounding board, and someone I looked up to. I want to help other students the same way she helped and impacted me. Teachers can make or break a students experience in school. They can be the light that helps them, but without helpful teachers, students can really not have a good experience.

This is why I want to be a teacher because of the possibility of even impacting/changing one student's life outweighs every con. I want to change students lives for the better. I want to be their support system and help them succeed. No amount of money could compare to the feeling of doing something you love and helping people.

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