Leaving for college freshman year, I was absolutely terrified. I was about to surrender my family, my closest friends, and all I’d ever known in exchange for an unfamiliar place with strangers galore and a mystery of a city.

I was just as enthralled as I was frightened. Eager to dive into a new experience, I just couldn’t shake the thought that I was about to be way in over my head in every aspect of my life. And I was. My first year brought forth challenges of balance, friendships, the unknown, and my absolute yearning to find my place, my fit.

If I heard it once, I heard it a thousand times—“When you go to college, you’ll find your best friends.” But how was I to do this? How was I going to transform a campus full of new faces into my home away from home? How on earth would I ever feel valued and loved enough to feel the comfort of family while 10 hours away from the comforts of my hometown?

But as the days went on, I found it more and more difficult to distinguish or typify home in a standard, textbook definition. It wasn’t easy anymore because it could not be captured in one sentence—my home wasn’t just a place in another state anymore. My home was no longer distant because I was beginning to see it in the hearts of the people I was becoming fortunate enough to know more and more daily, falling absolutely head over heels for the beautiful people they are.

All at once, my comfort zone transformed from fear of an unknown place to late night drives that turned into some of the most heartfelt conversations I had ever had. It became sleeping over at friends’ houses for days on end because we’d rather be laughing together than be apart. It became standing in a circle surrounded by impactful women in my sorority, becoming teary-eyed as they poured advice into my life and handed out their support and care out to me so freely.

It became being unafraid to be unashamedly and unfathomably genuine and authentic with those around me. I began to share more of myself and to learn more about the amazing people around me that had invited me into their lives, their world, their greatest fears, and their biggest goals.

Before I knew it, I the airport rides my friends gave me at holidays were the most emotional of times of the year—when I had to say goodbye to these new and fast friendships that grew so deep and inspired me so severely. That’s something I’d never thought would happen: that I would become so moved by the intentional and selfless friends I had come to know.

Today, a wise woman said something that resonated greatly with me—that home is not about the place, but about the people. That where you feel the most comfortable, the most free to be yourself, and the most loved is where your home resides.

I now sit in sheer awe and amazement as I realize how truly fortunate I have been to be blessed with friendships and by mentors that I now consider family. I am humbled by the willingness of these people to give of themselves in every way, and to allow me to be part of their story, just as they have played starring roles in mine.

Home is now not a place on a street quantified by a zip code 500 miles away. Home rests in the hearts of everyone I love—whether I’ve known them for 20 years or 20 days. I now see that we are bound by the joy for each other in our hearts, and that is what makes family and home so special.

Thank you to everyone who lets me call them home, and always know that you mean the most to me.