From the first week of living in Knoxville, I’ve known that it’s my home until graduation and that this is where I’m meant to be right now. My love for this town and school is insurmountable. I can’t begin to count the times “this is my home” has crossed my mind, or how utterly and completely I believe that. But on my way back from Thanksgiving break this afternoon I realized it’s not my home: Columbia, my actual hometown is “home.”

I go back to Columbia for a reason – not because my parents are there, not because my house and cat are there, but because my home is. The truth is, my parents could sell our house and move across the country and I would still find myself on I-40 westbound, heading to the “dimple of the universe” (seriously, we even have candles to claim the name). I love that place and the people that make it what it is. I love its quirks and secrets. I love how welcoming it can be. I even love those god forsaken mules.

Like most people, I didn’t always feel this way about my “hometown.” In fact, up until about a year ago, I couldn’t wait to get out and be gone for good. Sure, I planned on visiting my parents occasionally, but I never had respect for the town nor could I ever have imagined myself spending a significant amount of time there once I had the opportunity to leave. Of course, there is still a possibility that I will leave for good and that it will become merely a place of my past – no one can say what will or will not happen — but for once, that’s actually a disappointing thought to me. Who knows where I’ll be in four or five years, but if it’s Columbia, I would no longer be disappointed.

That being said, Knoxville has quickly become near and dear to my heart. It pains me to leave this place for school breaks (even though I miss Columbia and its people almost as soon as I say goodbye), and I can barely think about what it’ll be like to move away when I finish all my schooling. The atmosphere here is beyond compare; the sense of community is reassuring. Never in a million years did I think that I would end up here; I grew up a Georgia fan, and discovered my love for Ole Miss just before starting high school. Orange was never in my blood, and I actually openly disliked the Vols. My coming here was shocking to almost all of my friends and family (and honestly, I surprised myself with the decision as well). But now that I’m here I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else in the world. This is “home.”

In the few short months that I’ve spent here, I’ve made lifetime friends and connected with brilliant professors. I’ve decided my life’s path (and thanks to my OCD, I’ve made charts and calendars planning each step out in detail). I’ve become more myself here than ever before. I owe a lot to Knoxville already, and I can’t wait to see how it will continue to shape my life.