I lived by myself for a few weeks waiting for one roommate to move in, and then it was the two of us, and now there's three of us here sharing life together and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Currently, I'm here by myself. So it's a perfect time for reflection.
Home has been somewhat of a lost and uncertain thing for me since I was 16.
The home I knew for 16 years became a haunted memory. It wasn't complete without my mom. Then it was empty.
Family friends were gracious enough to let me live with them while I finished high school. I had a hugely messy room, with lots of stuff I was holding onto. But I had an extra bed in there for sleepovers.
Then college happened where a tiny room I shared with a person was a temporary living space. And it changed every school year.
Then I moved into my brother's basement for summer and Christmas breaks and then for a 8 month period. I had curtains for walls and got to wake up to the sound of little feet pattering on the floor. Or Bailey barking at the cul-de-sac kids playing basektball.
I am extremely thankful for the people that took care of me in a time when I needed it.
And the idea of not having a home was not on their shoulders, they provided what they physically could. But no one can give you a feeling you're missing, no matter how much they try.
When I was in trauma counseling, we went through everything that we lost because of our trauma. I lost my mom, obviously. But I lost innocence and security and home and my original idea of family and and and and.... the list goes on.
You've seen me go through that emotional labor of healing on my other blog. And I said this was a different blog for a different time and a different story.
My idea of home being a place with walls and doors and lots of stuff in it has drastically changed.
I LOVE this little raggedy apartment. I don't have vaulted ceilings or stainless steel appliances or real hardwood floors or whatever everyone else says that I need to have in an apartment. (Literally my goal was to have a better apartment than Peter Parker in Spider-Man 2, yeah the Tobey Maguire one. I succeeded).
What I do have is a space that is mine. And I share it with people I love spending time with. And I'm 15 miles from work. And 8 miles from my family. This space is perfectly mine.
But this space is still not my home.
It has taken FOREVERRRRRRR but for the first time, in maybe ever, my home is inside of my chest.
It's in this apartment with my roommates watching Christmas Rom Coms and eating cookies.
It's on a rock by the Chattahoochee river with my hiking boots on.
It's in the coffee shop down the street with a cup of peppermint tea.
It's in an Air Bnb in Seattle and Florida and Nashville and wherever I go next, exploring by myself or with others.
It's in a tattoo parlor adding another piece of art.
It's in my room with a good book and a cranberry candle on the warmer (or melted into the carpet, either one).
It's in my small group leader's house on a Thursday night with my community group sitting on couches and eating snacks.
It's in Whole Foods getting food from the hot bar and roaming the aisles trying to change my life.
It's in the endocrinologist's office asking questions.
It's in my little cubicle with headphones in, versioning out the plants on print ad and getting oh so frustrated but still loving it.
It's in my brother's house chasing my nephews and making dinosaur sounds.
It's on the dance floor with my girls with drinks in our hands celebrating whatever we want to.
It's in a chair at NPCC or listening to Andy Stanley podcast in the car.
It's in Michigan, Florida, Washington, Pennsylvania, Illinois, North Carolina and wherever my friends and family may roam.
It's at a concert screaming my lungs out to my favorite songs.
My life is my home. My heart is my home. The ones I love is my home.
This little 3-bedroom apartment is my home for now, in fact I just took over my renter's insurance and renewed our lease for another six months.
But knowing that I have built a home that will last, that will most likely be broken and rebuilt again and being ok with that idea, is probably one of the greatest accomplishments of the last 7 years.
I am my home.
I am finally home.
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