Where is Home?
Do you ever feel unsettled? Ask yourself where you truly belong? I’ve struggled with this since moving to Colorado as a freshmen in college, being out of my element and trying to fit into a place where I’m not sure I’ve really ever felt 100% in.
I recently took a much needed vacation to my hometown, a suburb just outside of Boston. As soon as I opened the door to the house where I grew up, I felt a deep sense of comfort. This kind of comfort you feel when your talking to your best friend, just being totally, purely, YOU. No act. No front.
Being around family and friends I’ve grown up with put me right back in my zone, where everything is safe, easy, familiar.
I’ve made friends in Boulder, have a job, a boyfriend, a great place, but I still struggle with calling Boulder my “home.” When in Boston, I always tell my friends about Colorado by starting out with “back in Boulder…” As I replay conversations in my head, I realize that I’ve never been able to say “back at home…” when referring to Boulder, even though I’ve lived here for over 4 years.
I’m not rock climbing or hiking every day. I’m green, but in no way a law abiding “green citizen.” I don’t eat all organic. I’m too afraid to ride a bike here. All of these things are great, But their not me.
I may not know where my “home” is, but I know who I am. I’m a east coast girl who moved out west, fell in love, lived on my own, and finally found a job doing what I actually want to be doing. I admit I’ve had a hard time leaving the past behind, but, I’ve been reaching out, making my own little nook in a town I’d love to one day call my real home. But, really, will any town be home like Boston?
I think I’ll always carry a piece of home with me everywhere I go, but I’m really trying to look ahead, not lean on that crutch, that cushion that’s so soft I sink into it every time I lay my head down, my home.
It’s time to make my house a home. My city a friend. The mountains my comfort. One walk down Pearl street at a time.