Home. It’s a really interesting concept to think about. For the past six years of my life, I have never lived in one location for more than a year and a half. I don’t think college really counts, and I was always gone every summer.
When I moved to Seattle for my first job after college, I struggled to call Seattle “home.” My best friend reminded me that it was like deja vu because I made the same comments when I left Los Angeles, my hometown, for school across the country in Boston.
I’m back in Boston now. And moving across the country again was tough, much harder than the last because I truly fell in love with Seattle and made it my home. Now reflecting, the definition of “home” has changed so much for me over the past few years. Having lived in LA, Boston, Minneapolis, Charlotte, and Seattle, I realize it’s no longer location based. It’s cliche, but I finally understand what they mean by “Home is where the heart is.”
I made the decision to move back to Boston to be closer to my boyfriend. We were embarking on new journeys, and it was important for us to support each other by being there for each other emotionally and physically. “Home” now is wherever he is. And one day, he promises that “home” will be wherever I am.
We moved into our first one-bedroom apartment in Cambridge and have made it our physical home complete with a projector and a 84″ screen. There are days when he works late, and I find that our home is a little empty, but it’s the nights when he walks in with his hole-ridden socks when our home is complete.