Home.
That concept has been on my mind a lot lately. I’m back in my hometown, but I don’t feel at home.
I recently went back to city I lived in for 10 years. My schedule was hectic. I saw old friends. I was hugged. We talked. We laughed. We caught up. It felt so good. I felt at home.
I felt at home because I felt loved. I felt seen. I felt heard. I felt okay to be myself in full. It was lovely.
That feeling hasn’t left now that I’ve returned to the home I’ve created in the place I was born. I still feel at home.
It’s not because of where I am. It’s because of the love I’ve learned to accept into my life. Love that allows me to be flawed and brilliant simultaneously.
