What is home? What is A home? Where is home?

Some might say home is where you are most comfortable. Others might say home is a feelings. Still others might name specific places such as their childhood home, where they have raised a family, or a special person’s house that they frequent. I have heard that home is a person, it is a heart, it is not a place, but you’ll know it when you have it.

I’m not sure I have ever had somewhere to call home.

It is hard to define what home is, but for me, this is what makes a house, a feeling, a place, h.o.m.e.

It has to be a feeling

It has to be true

It has to be safe

A home is somewhere I can kick my feet up

Kick my feet down

Kick them anywhere I damn well want

It’s where I don’t have to worry about what I say

It is where I don’t have to worry about love

It is where I don’t have to worry about having it tomorrow

Or the next day

Home should be where I know I can just be me

It is where I can exist without having to worry about existing

It is where the people I invite in respect me

It is where I don’t have to hide in another room

It is where I don’t have to hide who I am

I have been searching for somewhere to call home my whole life.

Somewhere I can call mine.

Not because I own it.

Not because I make the rules.

Simply because I can be me.

I have been searching forever.

Someplace to stretch my legs, stretch my arms, stretch my voice

The place where I can leave my projects out and I can be proud of them

Somewhere I can leave the dishes (or not leave them) at 2am

It is a place where I can feel, unapologetically angry

And unapologetically elated

What is home? Where is home?

Maybe home doesn’t exist for me. Maybe it is a momentary feeling. Something I’m not supposed to pinpoint. Something I will always be guilty of only catching glimpses of.

Or maybe, for some who can’t find a home of their own, it is meant for us to be a home for others.

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